


The Labyrinthian

by mrygm



Category: David Bowie (Musician), Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Action, Car Chases, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fantasy, Magic, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Sex, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:14:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 38,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28395969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrygm/pseuds/mrygm
Summary: Thirteen years after Sarah Williams ran the Labyrinth, she is both a successful author and a celebrated actress. She has everything she could ever want in life, except the one thing she wants the most: A certain Faerie King who is has been suspiciously quiet all this time...
Relationships: Jareth/Sarah Williams
Comments: 44
Kudos: 87





	1. Chapter 1

“Once upon a time, there was a beautiful and treacherous Fae, who lived in a castle at the centre of an intricate Labyrinth, vast as the eye can see, filled with danger and best of all, Magic. 

Jareth, the Goblin King, ruler of the Underground's Goblin Kingdom and its surrounding territory, sat sulking on his throne for what seemed like the hundredth time that week.

A goblin scuttled up to him, bearing a tray of cheese, wild fruit, and a goblet of wine, balanced precariously on her tiny head.

‘What ails thee, sire?’ squeaked the goblin

Jareth pulled his, taught, lanky frame into a seated position, his Rock Star explosion of spiky blonde hair bouncing vigorously from the movement. He snatched the gold-rimmed goblet from the tray and drank heavily from it, spilling a tiny bit down his exposed chest. Annoyed, he threw the goblet into the fire in his ire. The stain vanished.

‘I’m bored, Sprocket’ he said, darkly, ‘nothing happens around here anymore. Mortals are too enlightened these days to wish for anything that is not within their own power, and the other Fae know not to cross my lands without an invitation. But, I hate them all, so why would I invite them? It’s been a century since the High Queen invited me to court... My own fault, since I did seduce her, and her brother, breaking both their hearts, and the last war was so long ago I don’t even remember who won.’ 

He kicked a goblin who was gently snoring by the fire, sending him flying across the room and into a wall. The goblin promptly got up, shook his head, and scuttled away as fast as his weak knees could carry him.

Jareth humphed and threw himself back onto his throne, his long legs dangling over the sides of the rounded crescent.

‘Even those who do run the Labyrinth are so predictable and only out for themselves,’ he continued, ‘that I no longer even have the heart to lock them in an oubliette for a couple of centuries. What’s wrong with me, Sprocket?’

‘Forgive me, Sire, but have you considered that perhaps you’re lonely? squeaked Sprocket in a tremulous voice. ‘You have ruled alone for many hundreds of years… Have you considered taking a wife...?’

Jareth’s head snapped towards his steward, complete shock etched across his elfin face. Sprocket squealed in fear and backed away from him, knowing how much his pointy boots hurt her tender behind.

He was tense for a moment, then relaxed back into his throne, as he rubbed a long, white finger across his lips in thought.

‘A wife, ‘ey? Now what would I do with one of those?’ he said, softly. ‘I suppose my kingdom does need an heir…’

A far away look entered his mismatched blue eyes as he mulled the idea over.. 

Who though? He disliked almost everyone in the Underground, but it was a vast place, and even he had not explored every inch of it. Also, who would want him badly enough to bind herself to him for an eternity?

Suddenly, it dawned on him. The Aboveground was full of young, impressionable women whom he could trick into being his. But how? Of course, the Red Book. The story of his Labyrinth. She would fall in love with him without even realizing it. Human girls weren't smart and cunning like Fae. It would be a brilliant game.

He bared his pointy teeth in a self satisfied grin, sweeping Sprocket up in his arms to plant a kiss on her tiny cheek. 

‘Genius! Remind me to give you a bonus’ 

She squeaked in alarm and he let her fall to the ground, his dinner, forgotten, sprawling across the throne room.

‘But you don't pay me, Sire’ said Sprocket, bemused, rubbing her sore bottom.

‘Here....’ 

The King threw something in her direction as he strode out the door, and a gold coin bounced across the floor and landed on the silver tray that sat atop her head.

‘Thank you, Sire!’ squeaked the goblin, as she gawked at her prize. ‘And, good luck!’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that evening, having gathered all the necessary ingredients, Jareth stood on the walkway that bridged the two highest turrets of his castle, and called down lightning from the heavens. Chanting in the Old Tongue, he held the Red Book aloft, allowing the lightning to bind the ingredients together in a complex spell.

As the light flashed and sputtered between his hands, he intoned the words that would forever change is his life.

‘Go now, and find me my Queen’

The Red Book vanished with a sizzle and snap.

With a grin, Jareth popped out of existence, in a swirl of wind and glitter...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the Aboveground, a five year old girl with green eyes and black hair sat playing with her Fairy castle, saving the prince in distress from an evil Queen.

With a Fizz and a Pop, the Red Book appeared in mid air and dropped into the girl’s lap. She squealed and crawled away on all fours, scared. An owl hooted not far away, the sound of its wings flapping making her look toward it. The snowy owl looked down on her from its perch in a tree, its head cocked to one side. Suddenly she wasn’t scared any more.

The girl, now curious, crawled toward the book, picking it up in her chubby little fingers.

‘A Book? T-he Lay-baar-inta-ha…?’ She read, trying to spell out the letters like her father taught her. ‘It appears we have a new quest, Sir Lancelot’ she said, squeezing her teddy.

‘Sarah!?’ called a man at the back door of the house. ‘I’m home...!’

‘Daddy!’ she squealed, running into her father’s arms. ‘Look what the birdy brought me!?’ She pressed the book into his hands.

‘The Labyrinth? From a bird, you say? No kidding. If you eat all your dinner, I’ll read it to you tonight.’ 

She hugged his neck in glee. They disappeared indoors.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jareth watched from the shadows, a smile twisting his pointed features, his eyes twinkling like the glitter that followed him everywhere.

‘Indeed you do. And I will be waiting for you, my Precious thing…’”


	2. Chapter 2

A round of applause greeted Sarah as she finished reading the first chapter of her best selling novel, _Labyrinth_. She stroked the full colour illustration of Jareth, half in shadow in the bushes, filling the page opposite the one she just read. She closed the large leatherbound book and treated her audience to a beautiful smile.

Around her sat a mixture of pre-teens, teenagers and adults, all looking at her in wonder, their eyes glinting with the magic that she had created in their hearts. She saw her youthful self in every one of those hopeful faces. 

Her publicist interrupted.

‘Miss Williams will now take a few questions before the signing’

A dozen hands flew up. Sarah chose a plump, pretty redhead, about 13 years old.

‘Do you fink Jaref really loved ‘er, in the end..?’ she said in her thick East End accent.

A buzz went through the crowd. Sarah thought for a moment.

‘It’s hard to say, really. Jareth can be cruel, and he is spoilt, and he asked storybook Sarah to bend to his will, so he could love her. But she stood up to him, played the game on her own terms, and ultimately he was defeated and he lost her. Perhaps he lost the only thing that he really did love? What do you think?

The girl thought for a minute.

‘I fink ‘e did. It’s like she was the only person ‘o ever treated ‘im as an equal. And that’s wot ‘e asked the book for. A Queen, not a slave...’ The audience clapped. The girl blushed and sat back down. 

‘Well said’ said Sarah, a twinge for Jareth spearing her heart. Her publicist pointed to the next person.

‘How did you come up with the story? It seems quite personal, since you included both yourself and your brother in the narrative.’ said a blonde man sat right in her line of sight. The way he smiled at her made her do a double take. Then she relaxed, he was a stranger.

Sarah took a sip of water.

‘Well, when I was a kid, I had a vivid imagination, and I swear that a red book did just appear in my lap one evening when I was outside playing. My dad said someone probably just tossed it over the wall from the sidewalk. Then, one night when Toby was screaming his head off, years later, I was so mad I really did wish him away, and I must have fallen asleep soon after, because I dreamt that I ran through a Labyrinth and met Hoggle, and Sir Didymus, and Ludo, and that I fell madly in love with an ethereal man, who would grant me all my dreams in return for Toby. It felt weird to write it about anyone else, if I’m honest.’

A rumble went through the crowd.

‘So, Sarah did love the Goblin King?’ said a boy near the back.

Sarah smiled. ‘Yes, as much as a fifteen year old girl can love a spoilt, tyrannical fairy King. In her mind he was her first love, beautiful and mercurial as he was. In reality, she saw straight to his core and yet, she was innocent and her feelings were pure. He was unworthy of it, and that’s why he lost her.’

A woman stood to the side was her last question.

‘I noticed that Jareth looks a lot like David Bowie in the illustrations. Do you think he was your inspiration?’

Sarah grinned. Someone always picked up on that fact.

‘He must have been.’ she lied. ‘I wasn’t a massive fan of his music if I’m honest, but I did think he was very attractive, and I still have posters from when I was a teenager. When the illustrator asked me for inspiration, I told him: “think David Bowie, miss-matched eyes and all, in the tightest pants you can imagine, with Rod Stewart’ or Tina Turner’s hair”’

She flicked to a picture of him and held it up. Everyone nodded and laughed.

‘Or maybe the legend that all High-Born Fae have mortal twins, is true...?’ she added, winking. Her audience buzzed with excitement at the prospect. 

It was a concept she’d come across after borrowing some books from Jareth’s Library, snuck through the mirror to her by the friends she still saw fairly regularly. The thought made her both excited an uneasy, but apart from a vague reference to ‘Fae-touched twins’ and ‘those of the highest birth’ in a very old book written in extremely cursive English, there was nothing about it in any of the other histories written in either of the languages she could read.

Her eyes flicked to where the well dressed blonde had been sitting, but he’d disappeared. Something about his question had unnerved her, but she wasn’t sure why. And that look in his eye had brought back feelings that she’d thought she’d long since buried.

_The Red Book…_

Sarah Williams, mortal though she was, had broken Jareth’s spell, changed both of their fates, and yet, _and yet_ , she knew that she was really not all that _happy_ about it...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After doing her book signing, Sarah headed back to her cottage, nestled in the Norfolk countryside. The long drive home was uneventful, save a weird sparkling in the air every time a gust of wind blew the Autumn leaves around.

It was October 30th, the day before Halloween, and every year it got a little freaky around this time. As she pulled into her drive, she mused on the past 13 years. She’d left home at 18 to go to Art School and study drama, a career she spent several years building, only to be left kind of empty and unfulfilled by it. Her romantic relationships were hollow, boring her and fizzling quickly. 

When an incredibly sexy, magical entity offers you both his hand and his kingdom, it kind of leaves mortal men severely wanting in comparison. She wished it wasn’t true. Jareth had made it impossible for her to want anyone but him. She cursed his name and jumped out of the car.

She’d started writing and moved to the UK about two years previous, becoming a hermit for the most part. Once her book was published she was a bit more social, but she always returned home at night. A collection of jack-o-lanterns decorated her stone patio, along with sweet smelling herbs and roses. It was idyllic.

There was something about this place that felt like home, something she’d been lacking since her run. As if this place had called to her from so far away. She turned to look across the road, at a large Oak tree that stood proudly in the centre of a small field, its branches adorned with fairy lights and lanterns, gifts of pies, cinder toffee, Yorkshire parkin, pumpkins, and toffee apples, all dotted around the trunk.

It was a Faerie tree.


	3. Chapter 3

Sarah tossed and turned in her sleep, unusual for her, since she was usually out like a light the minute her head hit the pillow. The wind outside wailed, and she thought she could hear her name carried on it.

At 1am a clock sounded, but she couldn’t hear it, the dreamscape had finally taken her, as she knew it would. Each year since she’d arrived, on October 31st at 1am, she’d fallen into a deep and vivid dream...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Sarah ran through the hedge maze, chasing faeries as they darted just above her head, throwing flower petals over her. She giggled as she ran, until a melancholy sound drew her attention. Faeries in tow, she ran towards the music, realising that it had a familiar timbre to it. He was singing, and the melody brought tears to her eyes, just as she rounded a bend to see Jareth sat cross legged, a string instrument in his hands, playing a song that even though the words were in an unfamiliar language, they spoke of a broken heart, and a man lost without the woman he loves._

_He was sitting in a garden, under a tree that looked ancient, and also familiar. A square pond with a small waterfall sat front and centre, multicoloured fish, in hues that were impossible Aboveground, swam across it, weaving as if in time with the melody. Behind was the mound covered in cushions and rugs, a feast laid on a small table to one side, the King crooning beautifully to himself on the other._

_Sarah walked slowly toward him, entranced. Suddenly he looked up and the music stopped. The faeries took fright and, as one, they disappeared across the maze. A smile spread across the King’s lips as he saw who it was, pulling himself to his feet in one graceful motion._

_Just as she was about to turn and run, Jareth disappeared in a swirl of glitter, and she turned, only to be practically nose to nose with him._

_Before she could say a word, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, softly to start, gently scraping across her lips, a nibble here, a lick there, then more deeply, his tongue expertly parting her lips, tasting her, flicking against her tongue as if to coax it out._

_If Jareth’s arms hadn’t been wrapped around her shoulders, she was sure her knees would have buckled, her legs trembling as desire burst within her. She dug her fingers into his back to keep herself steady._

_She flicked her tongue against his lips and moaned in pleasure. He tasted like honey and annis, with maybe a little cherry thrown in, and the scent of him was overwhelming, much stronger than she remembered. Like grapes and apples, with cherry and cinnamon undertones, with just the faintest whiff of goblin musk. It was like coming home._

_Finally he released her, and she stood in front of him, a whirlwind of emotions storming through her. He stared at her, a smug look on his face, clearly aware of how much she wanted him. That snapped her back to reality. Rage taking her over, she slapped him hard, right on his perfectly chiselled cheek. Take that, you smug bastard!_

_‘That’s for Toby’, she fumed, glaring at him straight in his gorgeously uneven eyes, now only a couple inches away. She’d grown since he last saw her._

_Jareth staggered slightly, but kept his balance. Surprised as he was, he smirked at her, looking her up and down, with pleasure. Before she could strike him again, he pulled her close, locking her hands behind her with one hand, cupping her chin with the other._

_‘Well if it isn’t the Mistress of the Maze, the Lady of the Labyrinth, our first known Champion come all the way from the Aboveground. Welcome home, Labyrinthian. And my, Precious thing, what a homecoming it is…’_

_He ran a finger from her chin, down her neck, across her chest, then gently squeezed a breast, making her flinch and struggle against him. He laughed, bending to gently bite the exposed skin of her right breast, above the low cut neckline of her white summer dress. She cried out in response and struggled more._

_‘Let me go!’ she shouted in his ear, furious that he would take such liberties with her._

_He laughed again. The sound made her both angry and aroused. With a flourish, he let her go, and she fought to keep her balance. She found herself standing on the edge of the pond, breathing deeply, allowing her anger to build._

_Jareth sighed in happiness, licking his lips as he took in her curves, her long, tanned legs. ‘You’ve grown Sarah, adulthood looks tantalising on you. You can’t imagine what an agony each day of the last eleven years has been, without having you here. With us.’_

_Eleven years? Wait, that’s not right. This year marks thirteen. Suddenly the colours started to wash into each other, blues and greens, and yellows awash, yet Jareth and the tree were in stark focus. She then remembered it. The Faerie tree. The one stood in the field outside her house._

_This was the dream that she’d had the first year, the one where he’d explained the magic of the Labyrinth, and had asked her to marry him. He’d stood there expectant, regal in his baggy white shirt and tight black trousers, high heeled boots and his crescent medallion finishing the look. He’d smiled at her, held out a hand for her to take._

_But then the dream melted into darker hues, the reds and blues and blacks of midnight seeping into a corridor lit by a non existent moon._

_She walked towards a set of large, carved wooden doors, inscribed with Fae glyphs and scenes of Goblins doing what she realised were sexual acts to each other. She was wearing a sheer, lace gown, her feet bare on the stone floors._

_As the doors slid silently open before her, she saw a couple entwined together on a huge, gilded, four poster bed. The rich reds and golds of the curtains and tapestries, set off the scarlet sheets and black and white chessboard floor. As she got closer she recognised Jareth from his mane of blond hair, but her breath caught in her throat, when she realised that the dark haired woman, her legs wrapped around Jareth as he sat on the bed, her ruby mouth open in ecstasy as she rode him, that woman was her…_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm not really a slow-burn kind of girl... explicit content ahead ;p

_With a jolt Sarah realised she’d been here before too. How this dream had kept her going all year. She’d woken up in a hot sweat, a puddle of wetness below her. She wasn’t sure how, but she suspected that it was not just a dream._

_As she watched herself and Jareth making love, she searched her memory for how she found herself there, how they got there, then she remembered that he’d been standing at the foot of the bed, waiting for her, his erection straining the front of his silk night pants._

_She remembered how he’d picked her up, kissed her, called her his Eternal Queen, had laid her down and ravished her with his tongue._

_Sarah’s legs went weak as she remembered her climax, and how she was still so ready for him that she’d climbed on top of him, easing herself down over his hot shaft._

_Suddenly, she was back there, looking down into his beautifully chiseled face, his blue eyes evenly dilated as he looked into hers. Tears ran down her cheeks, and she kissed him, loving him more in this moment than she’d ever thought was possible. She hated him too, but with a fire that even the angriest sex could never burn out. She bit his lip slightly, dug her nails into him, hard, pulled his head back by his hair, and sent angry kisses all down his throat as she milked him._

_With a moan, Jareth had lifted her up, and suddenly she was on her back, and he was slamming into her, sending exquisite shocks of pleasure through her. She raised her knees, and dug her nails into his buttocks, crying out as he went faster and deeper with every stroke. He buried his face in her neck, his breath coming quick and heavy as he laid little bites and kisses across her throat. Sarah wrapped her hand in his soft, spiky hair, her anchor in case she lost herself in him. As she felt herself hit the wall, she looked up at him, and he knew she was ready, and just as she arched against him as she orgasmed, Jareth too had climaxed, his body shaking against her, sending more waves of pleasure through her. But as her eyes fluttered in her rapture, she saw Jareth glow for a second, his eyes shining blue orbs. He was infinitely more incredible than she’d ever even imagined._

_The dream shifted again, even though they’d lain like that for ages, just talking, watching as the sun rose. But this was the dream of the thirteenth year, and she was wondering how this one would be different._

_She found herself in the castle again, but this time something was wrong. Everything was crumbling, the walls twisting and breaking around her. She ran, screaming for Jareth, a trail of Goblins marking the way out of the castle. As they hit the courtyard, an awesome and fearsome sight hit her._

_Above the castle, a host of a thousand flying horses, Pegasi, in a hue something like gunmetal, were flying over them, bright red lightning raining down on the castle and the Goblin city. Suddenly Jareth appeared, in a swirl of glitter, looking both beautiful and terrible, every bit the Fae Sorcerer, and Lord of his domain._

_‘Sarah!’ he’d screamed, ‘come here, beloved!’ A cyclonic wind raced around them as he received her into his arms. He’d created a shield against the lightning, but it was clear that he was vastly outnumbered. She felt distraught and useless._

_‘We’re being invaded,’ he shouted over the din. ‘ I need you to go, Sarah. While ever you live, I cannot be killed, my magic and that of the Labyrinth is now part of you too. I need you to keep it safe. I will see you, very soon, my Queen’_

_He pulled her into a deep kiss, the hand brandishing his crystal crop still holding off the onslaught from above. He pressed his forehead to hers._

_‘I love you, Precious Thing. Now, go!’_

_Sarah felt her feet rise off the earth, as Jareth used his magic to send her away, backwards through the Labyrinth, her arms stretched towards him as she took in that last sight of him, doors and walls slamming shut as she passed. Suddenly, she was back where she’d first seen Hoggle, the door now fading into the wall._

_She beat her fists against it, screaming the name of her King._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aah yes, that old ploy of scratching an itch with the ever titillating sex dream. Wicked I know, but hope you enjoyed it...


	5. Chapter 5

Sarah woke up screaming, Jareth’s name still on her lips. A storm was raging outside, rain slashing at the cottage windows. Panting, her legs feeling weak from sleep, she rose to go get a drink of water, her hands shaking.

As she entered her bathroom, she caught her reflection, then stopped short. Her silk pajamas were covered in yellow dirt, stone dust and glitter, and she had small scratches and welts where stuff caught up by the wind had grazed her skin.

Panic setting in, she ran to her gilded mirror, the one enchanted to see the Underground. She called for Hoggle. No answer. She called for Ludo and Sir Didymus. Nothing. She tried to calm her anxiety by reasoning that they might be nowhere near a mirror, and it had sometimes taken a while before anyone was available when she’d called before.

Then it occurred to her that she’d not tried _him._

Should she? It was just a dream though… But the dirt and scratches on her body were evidence enough of the truth of it being very real indeed. It had felt more real too, without the ethereal quality the dreamscape had. She’d never tried to call him before, and then it occurred to her, with a drop in her stomach, that he’d never tried to contact her either. _But she had to know._

Taking a deep breath, she pressed her hands to the mirror, closing her eyes and holding an image of him in her mind.

‘Jareth’ she called

Nothing happened.

Then, instead of something appearing in the reflection, the mirror seemed to tune in on the Labyrinth.

The host was still raining down lightning from above, and she could see from this angle that the pegasi carried armoured riders, who held magical spears that were the origin of the city’s destruction. But even though the castle and the goblin city were in ruins, the Labyrinth itself seemed to be shielded from the onslaught. She sincerely hoped that her friends had sought shelter within its walls.

But to her dismay, one person hadn’t made it. From what she could see, Jareth had held off the host, singlehandedly, until the last of his subjects were safe inside the Labyrinth, and then he’d been overwhelmed before he could get to safety. His resistance failing, the wind dying down, she watched as Jareth dropped to his knees, his power spent. As he looked up toward the descending host, she saw him mouth her name.

Then the scene ended, and Sarah could just see her reflection. Tears pouring down her cheeks, she shouted his name again and again, but the mirror just showed her an extremely anxious twenty-something with a tear streaked face.

Not knowing what else to do, she showered, put on clean pajamas and shook the dust and glitter from her bed.

Curling into a ball, she cried herself to sleep. Her dreams were fitful and nightmarish, peppered with flashes of red light, and visions of a tortured Jareth chained up in an oubliette somewhere.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She woke up late that morning, sunlight streaming through the windows, the sound of an occasional car wending its way down the winding lane past her house. 

Her feelings raw and confused from the night before, she tried to contact the Underground once more, but got nothing. She even closed her eyes and tried teleporting, knowing she had no clue how to do it, and even if Jareth had bestowed magic on her, she’d never felt it, nor was she trained to use it.

Apart from feeling a little tingly all over, which she assumed she was imagining, nothing happened.

Unsure of what to do with herself, Sarah busied herself with making spooky cookies and readying herself for the night’s festivities. The tiny village she lived in was very old and very keen on its mysticism, All Hallow’s Eve being a very special day here, the Pagan New Year, and the night when the Veil between the Underground and the Aboveground was at its thinnest. 

The village was also home to all kinds of legends, from good and evil witches, to a covenant with the Seelie court, to tales of ghosts and ghouls and all manner of weird happenings. They offered gifts to the tree to appease the tempestuous Fae, a tradition that had spanned centuries.

If only they knew what was really lurking on the other side of the Veil… Or, perhaps, in their very midst.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After adding a chapter to her new book, _Tales from the Underground_ , Sarah got dressed into her costume, that of a faerie queen, with big, transparent, chiffon wings and a flowy pink dress. She placed a silver tiara on her brow and did her makeup as glittery as she could manage, without going overboard. Her lips though, they were a dark, seductive pink. Her long, dark hair, sprinkled with a light dusting of glitter, set the outfit off perfectly.

Happy with her look, she got ready for the children trick or treating. Then, as she passed her study, something caught her eye, and she stopped to see what it was.

The setting sun lit up a large original illustration from her book that the artist had gifted her.

Jareth was standing framed by her parent’s bedroom window, looking self satisfied and handsome, and terrifying all at once, exactly the way she remembered. Her heart nearly broke in that moment, as she touched the glass, wishing with all her soul that she could be close to him right then.

A part of her expected to be whisked away at her wish, but she was still standing in her study, alone. Suddenly, she was angry with herself for caring about him so much. Truth be told, it was only really on finding out more about him from her friends and his subjects that really made her tolerate his presence in her heart at all.

She slammed the door on her way out, determined to have fun, despite the constant worry making the pit of her stomach growl.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The evening passed pleasantly enough. She gave treats out to the local kids, got lots of compliments on her outfit, took part in the ‘best costume’ competition and was delighted to come second place after a little Lizzy Aisthorne, who was dressed as the macabre spirit of a local girl, who had drown herself in the lake three hundred years previously.

There was dancing, and a small fair, and then it was time to take the gifts to the faerie tree, a tradition that was said to have started when a vengeful lich and a Faerie king fought for the souls of humanity on that very spot, thousands of years before. 

According to old Eddie, the Fae had won, and the villagers had been exceedingly grateful, offering him whatever he wanted in return. To their horror, he had asked for the first born child of each newly married couple, for the next hundred years, as his reward, to be laid at the foot of the tree on their first birthday. It’s said that a young mother had begged the Fae to spare the children, and to ask for something else instead. He’d taken her, and her child, and had vanished. He claimed no more children after that, so the townsfolk offered fancies every year in their gratitude.

As they were nearing the Faerie tree, the wind started to pick up. Leaves swished through the air, and everything seemed to sparkle. Lightning cracked suddenly above, and there was a boom of thunder.

Sarah tasted the metallic tang of magic on the air, just as the heavens opened and freezing rain poured down on the villagers. Sarah was just a hundred yards from her home, so she ran for her front door, the others scattering towards their own homes or some other shelter.

Sarah got inside in minutes, shivering in her thin dress, pulling her soaked shawl from her shoulders and over the drying rack, going straight to the bathroom to grab a towel. 

As she was drying her hair, she heard a knock at her door, and ran to opening it, assuming one of her neighbours needed shelter.

King Jareth stood in her doorway, leaning hard against the doorframe, his hair somehow defying the downpour that was soaking him through, his leather jacket dirty and torn in places, his right leg a mess of blood and ripped cloth. As his face came into the light, he looked like he’d been in a fight: His nose was broken, blood mingling with the rain as it poured from him, angry bruises blemishing his left eye and cheekbone.

Without a word, he slumped forward and into her arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the first five up and I can now exhale, will put another block of five up soon, once they're edited. Really hope you've enjoyed it so far. Do let me know what you think. MRYGM


	6. Chapter 6

‘Oh my dear Christ!’ cursed Sarah, reaching out to Jareth as he tilted forward, deftly ducking under his arm to pull it across her shoulders, catching him before he fell. He moaned and leaned heavily on her, as she compensated for his ruined leg.

Fortunately, the kitchen was the first right off the small hallway, and she helped him walk to the chaise longue built under the window in her large kitchen-diner. It was a comfy spot, her favourite place to read.

Gently, she helped him recline into it, fetching a stool to prop his bad leg up on, and handed him some kitchen towel to help him stem the flow of dark red blood pouring from his face. Digging out her First Aid kit and a tea towel, she flicked on the kettle, then realised her front door was wide open, the patter of rain on stone evident. Running to close it, she nipped to the bathroom for antiseptic and some painkillers, wondering if she should call an ambulance.

Collecting the old tea towel and some hot water in a bowl, she pulled a pouffe from under the dining room table and set it next to Jareth. Checking the nearby coffee table to ensure she had everything, she finally looked at him under the light. It was worse than she feared.

His right leg looked as if it had been struck by lightning. The skin was charred and burned, and bleeding through the cracks, and there were sparks of red and blue light periodically flashing over his skin, making him wince in pain whenever it happened. She disappeared for a minute, then came back with a bath sheet soaked in cold water, wrapping it around the burn area.

She sat down again, ringing out the tea towel in hot water, then reached for the hand covering his ruined nose. He reluctantly pulled it away, revealing his bruised, bloodied, disfigured nose. His sad blue eyes closed, defeated, realising it was bad from the look on her face. 

‘Shit, Jareth, what the hell did they do to you?’

Not expecting an answer, she gently wiped the blood and dirt from his face and neck, then removed the towel and used the scissors in the kit to cut his trousers so she could assess what to do about the leg, cutting them off at the top of his right thigh. Ninety percent of his skin from his mid thigh to the top of his boot was still smouldering, though, oddly, the burn wasn’t spreading. It was only just warm to the touch. Strange.

She looked up to see Jareth’s warm blue eyes staring at her, the pain in them evident, but also a familiar haughty look that she could guess the meaning of.

‘You need a hospital’ she said firmly, though she wasn’t sure if Fae anatomy was anything like human.

‘No’ said Jareth, with difficulty, barely moving his mouth, ‘they can’t help me. Only you can. I need your magic...’

The words came out a little nasally and a bit garbled, but she was sure she heard him say _her_ magic? In answer, he pulled the cloth from her hand and cupped it in his own, lacing his fingers through hers. Her stomach did a somersault at the contact. He brought her hand to his face, lightly brushing his lips across her wrist.

‘Hold still, this will feel strange’ he said

Sarah felt an odd tingly sensation, as if something was being drawn through her, and a bright light started to emanate from her hand, lighting up his ruined face, growing steadily brighter and warmer. After about ten seconds, it started to burn, but then there was a sickening crack and the light went out, just as Jareth cried out in pain, his eyes watering.

‘By the Goddess, that feels better.’ he said in his usual deep, throaty voice, gingerly touching the tender but fixed bridge of his nose. ‘Thank you…’

He bent to kiss the palm of her hand, but she tugged it away. He looked forlorn, yet resumed his unnerving stare, his eyes not leaving hers for a second. 

Averting her gaze from him, she went and filled the kettle again, flicking it on, digging two mugs out of the dishwasher. She noticed him shivering, then disappeared, coming back a minute later having ditched the wings, pulled a dressing gown over her dress, and had one draped over her arm, along with some slippers. She went to the central heating control, ramping it up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jareth watched her silently, shivering in his wet clothes, wishing he had enough magical reserves left to dry himself out. She’d seen him shudder, and left the room to come back with a dressing gown and slippers for him to wear, fiddling with a knob on a wall before placing them on the coffee table next to him. She heard the kettle click and went to pour hot water over what his keen senses realised was English Breakfast tea.

‘How do you take your tea’ asked Sarah, looking across at him expectantly.

‘Black with honey, please’ he answered, bewildered. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but this quiet waiting on him wasn’t it. Her mouth was set in a hard line every time she looked at him, yet her kindness belied her anger and bemusement at his turning up unexpectedly.

‘We need to get you out of these wet things.’ she said as she approached him again, setting two mugs of tea down on the table, ‘you’re already weak, you’ll catch your death if we don’t get you warmed up soon…’

She moved forward to help him up, and he complied, leaning on her with one arm as he pulled at the fastenings of his jacket with the other. They unclipped and he pulled it off one side, while Sarah moved to pull it off the other. She tutted as she threw it over the back of a dining chair, then looked at him expectantly. He felt very strange undressing in front of her like this, under her watchful eyes, but with no sexual connotation to ease the awkwardness of it. He averted his gaze as he pulled at the soaked ruffled dress shirt, and pulled it over his head, revealing his alabaster skin, bruises etched starkly across his ribs, the tattoo of a tribalized owl adorning his left pectoral, right where she remembered it being, his medallion shining proudly in the kitchen lights.

So it hadn’t been a dream after all. Or at least, not _her_ dream. Her stomach dropped at the realisation, heat rising to her cheeks and a throb that spoke of desire hit her. Her eyes hardened with both fury and lust for a second, but she blinked it away, raising her chin as she raked her green orbs across his skin from where she stood, one arm around his waist as the other tossed his shirt to where the jacket was. She pulled the fluffy, warm dressing gown over his right arm and across his shoulders, where Jarath pulled it over his left arm and around himself.

‘Looks like we’ll have to cut those pants off’, she said, testing the waist of the very tight, eggshell blue trousers he was wearing. ‘I doubt they’re salvageable anyway. Are you wearing anything underneath?’

Colour rising slightly to his pale cheeks at her touch, he whispered in the negative, looking intensely down at her where she stood under his arm, warmth radiating from her like a halo. She tutted in response, raising an eyebrow. 

‘Of course not' she muttered to herself, retrieving the med kit scissors from the table, the kind paramedics use to cut people from their clothes too.

‘Think you can stand on your own for a minute?’ she asked. He nodded, putting all his weight on his left leg and releasing her, propping himself up on his left arm as he leaned on the side of the chaise longue.

‘You’ll have to hold them up while I cut them away.’ she said, kneeling on his right side. He hooked his thumb over the waistband, nodding that he was ready.

Starting at where she had sliced off his right pant leg at the thigh, with a few deft cuts, she was through that side, the heavy, wet material slowly pulling away from his skin, revealing the gorgeous blue and silver starburst pattern on his right hip. _A Fae birthmark, he’d told her as she’d run her lips over it, once upon a dream_. A throb between her legs at that memory nearly made her gasp. She quelled the instinct as she shuffled across to his left side. Starting at the waist, she nimbly cut all the way down to the top of his calf high boot, the material slipping away, exposing his slim, tautly muscled leg, and tight stomach.

‘Sit’ she ordered him, catching a glimpse of dark blonde curls and pink skin as he pulled the gown around him, the ruined trousers falling to the floor. He sat. Sarah moved to pull his boots from him, the right causing him to hiss in pain as it was yanked off. She cut through the remainder of the leggings, then took the boots over to dry near her range oven, exuding exquisite heat. 

She returned for the clothes, taking the jacket to her airing cupboard, along with the trousers, grabbing a stack of blankets, but tossed the shirt into the wash basket. She took a minute to change into a night dress, all her PJs dirty thanks to wearing two pairs in one night. She removed the sparkly makeup, brushed the glitter from her hair and took a deep breath. 

She closed her eyes for a second. His words to her came back to her in a jumble, the ones he’d said just before his defeat.

_“I’m exhausted from living up to your expectations of me...”_

_“Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you. I move the stars for no one...”_

_“Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave...”_

She pulled her dressing gown around her shoulders, staring herself down in the mirror.

‘But, I never wanted a slave, Jareth’ she said to her reflection, defiance flashing in her eyes.

_Damn him and his gorgeous ass!_ His presence was driving her crazy with the need to run her hands over him. It was pretty obvious he would have zero protestations if she did just that. And that goddamned dream was threatening to demolish the nice wall of ice she’d put up between them.

Setting her features to ‘don’t fuck with me’, she retrieved the blankets and padded back into the kitchen, where Jareth sat sipping hot tea in quiet refection, reclining more comfortably than he had earlier, having put on the slippers, a bit too small for him, and was propped up in the corner of the chaise longue, his legs stretched out in front of him.

She paused for a second, taking in his ethereal beauty, so at odds with his surroundings, noting how vulnerable he looked wrapped up in a dark blue dressing gown, flashes of blue and red light periodically arcing across his bad leg.

He looked up as she turned off the main lights, allowing the ambients to fill the space with a soft, warm glow. She approached him, covering him in a layer of blankets, breathing in his rich, fruity, spicy scent, then pulled the rocking chair in the corner across to where he lay. Retrieving some home made jam tarts from her pantry, she set them down on the coffee table between them, picked up her cooling tea, and sat herself in the rocking chair, pulling a blanket across her naked legs.

‘Now, Your Majesty, tell me _everything…_ ’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, so with things have been kind of crazy with the holidays and work, and I've been putting nearly all my free time into chapter nineteen (a very long, quite important chapter), I've finally got round to doing some editing and coding, so chapter 6 and 7 are up tonight, the next three following tomorrow, hopefully. Hope you're enjoying my little story, and as always feedback is the nourishment of writers, so please do be generous with it ;) - MRYGM


	7. Chapter 7

Jareth cocked his head to the side, looking across at his beautiful, kind, generous Sarah. She was wonderful, and he had to stifle the urge to beg her to let him hold her in his arms.

‘Where shall I start?’ he asked, unsure just exactly what she wanted him to say.

‘That dream I had about the host of Pegasi attacking the Labyrinth last night… I take it that it’s all real…?’ she said, her jaw set in a way that made him realise it wasn’t just last night she was referring to.

‘Yes,’ he answered, sadly. ‘Valkyr, an ancient warrior queen from the very far North of the Underground, has declared war on me and my lands. I’m assuming that she wants to gain control of the Labyrinth, and with it, the power to traverse easily between our worlds. Fortunately, the Labyrinth is protected from her taking it by force, but both my castle and the Goblin City were destroyed, as they aren't defensible from above without prior warning. I spent most of my magic reserves holding them off so that my subjects could seek shelter in the Labyrinth. They can withstand a siege there more or less indefinitely. I gave Sir Didymus orders to start planning a counter attack, which I will lead once I’m healed.’

Sarah nodded as she took in that information. She had so many questions. But then a realisation about the flying host hit her.

‘Valkyr? You don’t mean like _the Valkyrie_...? As in host-of-Norse-shield-maidens-on-flying-horses, taking-the-glorious-dead-to-Valhalla, Valkyrie…?’ said Sarah in a rush, her eyebrows arching in surprise.

‘It’s thought that near death run-ins with her army of beautiful and deadly warriors inspired that particular belief. So, yes, _that_ Valkyr,’ answered Jareth, smiling, ‘though the queen herself is a male hating, ice wielding, power hungry harpy, according to the few souls who have been lucky enough to escape from her clutches. Very beautiful, so they say, but extremely dangerous. My great, great grandmother was the ruling High Queen who exiled Valkyr to her freezing lands over a hundred centuries ago, after an attempted coup.

‘She’s managed to cause trouble over the years, but mainly by proxy, using her minions to drum up dissent, causing wars and coups, and even eventually having my grandparents murdered and my family deposed. That’s how I ended up on the throne that guards the Labyrinth. It was the safest place for my parents to retreat to, as it will only concede to true Royal blood, from the line that originated from the First Queen of the Fae, who was born when the very first creature hauled itself from the dark waters and walked on what you would call _Earth_ ’. 

Jareth took a sip of now cold tea, looking across at Sarah, who had her steepled fingers pressed to her lips in thought. He picked up a jam tart and tucked into it, the sweet, tangy raspberry jam assaulting his senses. He was starving.

‘Okay,’ she said quietly, her brow furrowing. ‘So, if the Labyrinth will only answer to your bloodline, how could Valkyr hope to gain access to it?

‘The short answer is she can’t, not unless I bestow that power on her, by making her my wife.’ said Jareth, noting, with satisfaction, Sarah’s shock as he said it. ‘As Queen, she would automatically gain access, though the Labyrinth has a mind of its own, and might defy her if it so wishes. I really don’t know what she’s thinking, since she tried to murder me, one of only a few ways Fae can die, and in that, she would lose her key, so to speak. It doesn’t really make any logical sense, if I’m honest.’ Jareth shifted, his leg hurting, brushing away crumbs, and helping himself to another tart. Blackberry this time.

Slowly rocking backwards and forwards, Sarah stroked her chin in thought. She noticed his discomfort. Her eyes shifted to his face.

‘ _She_ did this to you?’ growled Sarah, anger for him rising in her belly. Jareth was an arrogant prick sometimes, but the thought of someone murdering him set her protective instincts aflame.

‘Not personally. She sat on her white Pegasus as they cornered me, and ordered them to set me on fire. I was so weak, I could barely hold them off, and one of the spears made contact with my leg, causing this burn. They took advantage of its effect, and came in close, beating me into submission. The damage to my face was caused when one of them slammed it into a wall, repeatedly…’

Jareth swallowed, looking almost green at the memory. She saw his bottom lip wobble, and he bit his lip, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. Sarah, her heart wrenching, pulled herself from her chair and went to sit close to him, on the pouffe. She took his hand in hers, giving it a comforting squeeze.

‘And you couldn’t retreat into the Labyrinth, with the others?’ asked Sarah, softly, her green eyes full of concern for him.

‘No. A king does not retreat like a coward. I invoked the Magic of my position by standing my ground, to the bitter end. It’s why the lightning couldn’t touch me. It’s why Valkyr used her minions instead of laying a hand on me herself. I don’t even know what she looks like, I just know that she is flaunting the laws laid down by my ancestors by coming after me and mine. Her power is in numbers though. I drew on every resource I had to keep them at bay, when normally I send my enemies on a merry chase through the Labyrinth, where they will inevitably meet a timely death.’

He looked her in the eyes, a tear falling from his own, squeezing her fingers tenderly as he spoke..

‘But they even managed to break through the blood magic that has shielded me from Valkyr for millenia. I don’t know how. But I do know that it wasn’t my magic that saved me. It was yours. When I told you I couldn’t die while ever you are safe, I was telling you the truth. But it didn’t stop them from trying, frustrated that I was still alive and resisting them…’ Jareth flinched at the memory. Sarah squeezed his hand.

‘So, how did you get here, Jareth?’ she asked, gently, her brows knitting together.

‘You summoned me.’ he said, a smile touching the edges of his mouth.

She looked confused for a second. Then she remembered. _The wish._

‘That wish worked then? Bit of a delayed reaction…’ she smiled, trying to lift his spirits. He smirked and ran his fingers across her arm in thanks.

‘No, actually, as soon as you summoned me, I felt the Labyrinth bend to your request, and it gave me enough power to shift into my owl form and fly for the portal in the middle of the hedge maze, the twin of your own here. My magic was so spent, I had to rest in the boughs of the tree before I could make the short journey here. I had to borrow power from the storm just to shift back into my original form. All of my magic is currently tasked with fighting the curse that’s currently presenting as this horrific burn to my leg.’

He rubbed it subconsciously. Sarah was trying to absorb all this. It was a lot.

‘So the blue and red light is your magic fighting Valkyr’s?’ she asked tentatively.

‘Yes, very good. You’re learning, fast.’ he smiled at her, his pointed, crooked teeth showing. It was a very Jareth smile and she loved it.

‘Well, if you tapped into my latent magical ability earlier, why aren't you doing so to heal yourself quicker, Jareth? If I can help you, get you healed faster, I want to. Those are my friends trapped there, I want to help them too.’ She had such a stern, sincere expression, his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. _Such a precious creature!_

‘Oh, Precious thing, I know.’ He raised a hand to her cheek and she didn’t pull away. Instead she pressed into it slightly. He stifled a sob, he was so moved by her concern. 

Jareth wasn’t used to being loved. Not in this selfless, pure, fierce kind of way. He’d forgotten how much he missed it. How he’d never really had it before, not since his family was killed, centuries ago. Fae were immortal creatures. Being left alone in the world wasn’t natural for them.

‘But, I couldn’t, even if I wanted to.’ he continued. ‘Your magic has been building for some time now, but if I borrow too much at once, before it’s fully manifested, it could kill you.’

A jolt of energy coursed through her at his touch, and at the thought that he could kill her by pulling the power through her. He bent forward, lifting her head, touching his forehead to hers, his hand stroking her face. She closed her eyes, relishing his closeness. Filling her senses with him. 

Then something occurred to her and she pulled away, rising to go flick the kettle on again. She’d adopted the British habit of making tea as a way to exert control over pretty much any situation. The action was soothing somehow. And she’d fallen in love with rich, sweet, white tea as her beverage of choice.

Jareth watched her work, confused and slightly annoyed that their intimate moment was cut short. Presently she returned with fresh tea, just the way he liked it: Hot and sweet. She sat back in her chair. He covered up his disappointment by taking a soothing sip. He wanted her nearer.

‘So, one thing I don’t get…’ she said, presently, ‘is how did I get to the Labyrinth in the first place? One minute I was dreaming, and the next I’m running for my life.’

Jareth took another sip, pondering the question.

‘The Labyrinth felt you near and pulled you in. It recognises you as its Champion, imbuing you with magic and giving you the ability to protect it, and by extension, me. It doesn’t think like we do, it acts on instinct, it can’t reason that by bringing you to me before you’ve manifested your gifts, would be putting you in mortal danger. Incidentally, I was fast asleep too when Valkyr passed the borders of my lands, and declared her invasion.’

Sarah’s jaw clenched slightly.

‘And the dreams? They were yours weren't they?’ she said, her anger flaring again.

Jareth looked slightly uncomfortable, but assented, in a voice that was both haughty and contrite.

‘Technically they were _our_ dreams, but yes. You’ve walked in my dreams every night for thirteen of your human years, my Precious thing, but it’s only since you moved into the proximity of the portal tree that I realised that you were really with me. Once a year when the veil between our worlds is at its thinnest, using the tree as a kind of psychic conduit, that’s when you wandered into the dreamscape. And I...’ A look of pain crossed his features, and he turned away from her, hurt.

‘I honestly thought, now that you’d come of age and come into your magic, that you had come looking for me… finally’ he admitted, feeling very foolish, swallowing hard, not daring to look her way.

She stared at him for a moment, then concentrated on her tea. Had she? It was certainly possible.

‘Maybe I did.’ A rueful smile tugged at her mouth, and she saw hope flare in his face, as he turned to her, his eyes glinting slightly.

She got up and moved to sit on the edge of the chaise longue. He shifted to give her space. She scanned his face for a second, raising her fingers to the bruise that marred his cheek, gently touching it, moving softly down to his chin.

‘They really did a number on you didn’t they?’ she was saying, softly, as she bent towards him slightly. But he barely heard her, the blood rushing in his ears, her proximity setting his heart racing, his eyes focused on her lips.

She was very close. He looked up, to see her green eyes boring through his from under lids heavy from both lust and tiredness, her thumb gently brushing his bottom lip. Mesmerized, he leaned forward slowly, instinctively.

‘It’s late. I should get you to bed’ she was saying, her voice low, husky. She cupped his face, pulling him toward her, her thumb pressing on his chin slightly, his lips parting in response, just as hers brushed into his, in a kiss that sent starlight shooting through them both, her touch featherlight. 

He watched as her eyes closed, felt her shift as her kiss deepend, and he kissed her back, pulling her as close with his right arm as his bad leg would allow. She entwined her fingers in his, her other hand tracing his jaw. Her tongue flickered across his lips, tasting him, wanting him, then diving in to play with his own. Then she retreated to bite his bottom lip, gently. A heartbeat later she was back for more.

Jareth’s eyes fluttered closed as he moaned in pleasure, a hand raking through her hair, down to her neck, pulling her closer, his thumb drawing a line down her perfect jawline, recognising this as the first time Sarah had ever truly kissed him.


	8. Chapter 8

It was approaching noon when Sarah bundled her way through the door, her hands laden with shopping bags. She threw her car keys onto the hall table, setting the heavy plastic and paper carriers down. The ones with food in, she took into the kitchen, set them on the counter and flicked on the kettle.

The note she’d left on the counter for Jareth, so he would know how to use the electronics, had vanished, along with her spare key.

She started unloading the bags, having bought ingredients to make some lunch, dinner and tomorrow’s breakfast. Putting everything away, except the fresh rye bread, ham, and somerset brie, she went to find her new house guest, collecting the other bags as she passed through the hall to the living room.

Jareth had ensconced himself in the lazy boy chair, a blanket over his legs, wearing half moon spectacles as he laughed at something in the red leather-bound book he was holding in his hands. Sarah leant against the doorframe, watching him. She loved it when he laughed, how his normally serious mouth would turn all crinkly at the edges, showing off his rather white, very pointy teeth, how it made his eyes twinkle like stars, how the sound of his throaty laugh was soothingly lustrous. More so since she half expected to have dreamed up his presence here in the first place.

Presently, Sarah stopped staring at him like an adulative fan girl, and entered the living room properly, Jareth looking up at the movement. He treated her to a warm, welcoming smile. Sarah couldn’t get over how changed he was, or maybe how differently she saw him now.

‘There you are, Precious thing,’ he said, marking his page, closing the book, and laying it to one side, with the glasses. ‘Where have you been off to all morning?’

‘I went into town to pick up a few things,’ said Sarah, as she put the shopping down at his feet. ‘I thought you might want something to wear...’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sarah had woken early that morning, Jareth’s arm slung loosely around her, his breath soft on her face, and something else hard against her butt. He’d turned over as she moved, not waking up, slinging an arm above his head, starfishing into the space she just vacated, his other hand absently adjusting what was some rather impressive morning wood.

He looked young and peaceful, the bruises on his face and chest already looking less angry than they had just a few hours before. Sarah had to resist the urge to sit and stare at him for hours on end, mainly to finally convince herself that he was real. Instead she went and took a shower.

As the hot water poured over her, she thought to the night before, to the story he’d told her, to having to strip him of his trousers, and the very passionate kiss she’d initiated, before she’d helped him to bed, where they’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms, both completely exhausted, Jareth in no fit state to do anything more than just hold her to him, his long fingers idly drawing patterns over her exposed skin.

Desire rose within her again, and, unable to ignore the angry throbbing inside her anymore, Sarah slipped a hand between her folds, her labia slick even in the water running down her body. Biting her lip, her deft fingers knowing exactly what she needed, after just a couple of minutes she felt herself give way, a powerful orgasm wracking through her that made her cry out, and she clung to the shower rail, her knees feeling weak, her breath coming in a hard pant.

Feeling a little embarrassed, but finally satisfied, she finished washing herself, then got out of the shower, half expecting Jareth to be standing in the doorway, playing with a crystal ball, a knowing look on his face as he smirked at her in that way he did.

But he was still fast asleep, his mouth open slightly as he breathed deeply, the silver-gold medallion on his chest moving slowly up and down, his right hand resting on top of the covers that were pulled up to waist height, his blonde head resting in the crook of his left arm. Sarah collected her clothes and exited silently, letting him rest after what had been a gruelling All Hallow’s Eve.

As she was having her morning cup of coffee and some cereal, the daily paper was shoved through the letterbox. She collected it with interest, but Monday, the first of November, 1999, didn’t seem to have much in the way of news.

Sarah left a spare key on the counter with a note explaining how to use the kettle, and the TV, telling him to help himself to anything in the pantry, feeling bad she didn’t have much in the way of food to offer him except Ready Brek, pumpkin spiced cookies and jam tarts.

As she locked the door, she caught sight of Jareth’s crystal ended crop nestled in the climbing rose bush that grew around the door frame. She put it into the bag that also carried the ruined leather jacket and the measurements she’d taken from Jareth’s clothes that morning.

Sarah drove into the small village, pulling her ‘98 Nissan Skyline into the tiny precinct that contained the village’s few shops. First she went to the Dry cleaner/Tailors, dropping off her cleaning and asking if they could repair the jacket. 

Looking it over, Mrs Swan called in her husband, the local cobbler, and asked him for an opinion. After ten minutes of good natured arguing, they said that yes, they could, the new stitching would blend into the existing style of the jacket. Ready tomorrow they promised. They were also curious whose it was, considering it was tailored for a man.

‘A friend’ was all she said.

Next, she went to speak to old Eddie Long, who ran what was somewhere between a carpenter’s shop, a jeweller, and a smithy. Being out in the countryside, he seemed to spend most of his time shoeing horses and repairing farming equipment.

‘’Ey up, love’ said the old man, smiling from under a huge white mustache that would rival that of the Monopoly man, as Sarah entered his shop ‘what can I do you for? Not seen you ‘ere in months, lassie.’

She smiled at him, he was always so jovial and welcoming, a favourite of hers, reminding her a bit of Sir Didymus.

‘Hi Eddie, I have a bit of a weird request for you.’ 

She pulled the riding crop from her bag. ‘My friend fell from his horse and injured himself on his way here last night, and I was wondering if you could temporarily turn it into a walking stick for him?’

She handed him the crop.

He looked it over, grumbling to himself, testing the crystal top, which looked as if it would twist off with a little effort. He shuffled off for a second, coming back with a nice long walnut branch that had been stripped and lacquered.

‘Hmmm, well, I just so happen to have this piece of walnut I’ve not really known what to do with, and I think it’ll twist off fairly easy, so he can use it as either the crop or the cane. Quite a sizable diamond on it too... your friend must be quite attached to it. It’ll take me a little while to cut it down to size for him. Do you know his height?’

_Diamond?_ Sarah blinked in surprise and dove into her bag for some measurements.

‘Yeah, it was a gift, I think, from his father’ lied Sarah, making something up on the spot, ‘he’s the son of some earl or lord something or other. He doesn’t really talk about it. He got soaked so I’m picking up some clothes for him. He’s five foot ten.’

She also showed Eddie the other measurements she’d taken, hoping it would help. He seemed happy, twisting the crop in his hands.

‘Mighty strange way to cut corundum, I must say. Incredible craftsmanship to hone diamond into a near perfect sphere like this though. But it does take advantage o' the starburst inclusion right in the middle o' the stone...'

Eddie tilted it forward so she could see the light bouncing off the tiny fissure in the middle of the diamond. Eddie twisted his moustache thoughtfully for a second.

‘He canna live far away if he came o’er on ‘orseback? I take it the beastie is stabled at the Johnsons?’

‘He’s just a little weird like that,’ said Sarah, stretching her story to the edges of believability, ‘enjoys riding cross country, barely ever uses a car. And his horse bolted in the storm…’

Suddenly, Sarah was hit by a vision of a dappled gray horse with a silvery mane, running through the night, neighing for his lost rider.

‘He’s dappled grey, with a white mane. We’re hoping he’ll find his way back on his own, but please keep an eye out for him. You have my cell number, don’t you, in case he wanders into the village? I’m just popping to town, I’ll be back in about an hour, maybe ninety minutes?’

‘Aye, Lassie, and I’ll see ye soon’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sarah drove the ten miles to the largest town in the area, and spent the best part of an hour happily shopping for outfits she thought Jareth might like, buying herself another pair of Levi’s as a treat.

She then returned to the village, picking up the diamond topped walking stick from Eddie. He showed her how to twist it on and off, and made her promise to bring her ‘young man’ to visit, once he was well enough. It amused her to think that Jareth, who looked barely a day over thirty five, was borderlining a millennium in age.

She thanked Eddie profusely and left, popping to the grocer’s for food, and returned home, hoping that Jareth was alright. It was nearly midday.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘I figured that you didn’t want to spend all your time in the Aboveground dressed in a dressing gown that’s too small for you..?’ 

Sarah smiled, pulling the bags towards her as she sat down on the sofa.

Jareth just smirked at her in curiosity, then the kettle clicked and Sarah got up to go pour boiling water over the tea. She re-entered, carrying a tray laden with a teapot, milk, sugar, a pot of honey, two cups, spoons, and a plate of her favourite English cookies: Hob-Nobs.

She placed it on the coffee table between them, leaving the tea to steep while she dug some things out of a bag.

‘So, considering how you’ve got a bit of a Rock Star thing going on, I thought I’d go for a Grunge look…’ She showed him some ripped jeans. ‘I went with tight fitting, since I couldn’t imagine you in the baggy pants that are all the rage right now, though I did get you some pajamas too. They’ll do as pants until your leg heals a bit…’

Jareth put his head on his hand, watching in amusement as Sarah entertained herself by showing him all the clothes that she’d bought for him, from loose shirts to a leather jacket, to the undergarments humans seemed to deem necessary, as Sarah put it ‘to hold things in place’. There were also tight t-shirts with pictures on them, and loose checkered ones that were apparently worn around the waist.

‘I will have to try something on later’ was all that Jareth said on the subject, after thanking her for thinking of him. Blushing slightly, she told him that it was ‘no big deal’ and busied herself pouring the tea. Suddenly remembering something, she had rushed out to the car, and raced back in, almost panting with excitement.

‘I have a surprise for you’ she said, something hidden behind her back, a huge girlish smile on her lips, rocking on her heels in nervous energy.

‘Oh?’said Jareth, perplexed, sipping the hot, sweet tea.

With a flourish, she revealed the walking stick, giving it a twirl. She held it out to him.

‘Oh, you found my crop?’ he said, taking it, running his fingers over it, not knowing what to say. He didn’t realise that he’d brought it with him, though he rarely put it down.

‘How did you…?

‘A friend of mine is a gifted carpenter. He made it so you can change easily between the two, the rest of it is here, somewhere… ? Here it is...’ She pulled it from a bag.

‘That’s really such a sweet thing to do, thank you.’ said Jareth, feeling a little emotional. He was used to people waiting on him, but mainly because it was a perk of his rank, or they were terrified of him. Someone doing things for him just because she liked him was a curious sensation. Sarah would make an excellent Queen, her capacity for kindness quite rare in the Underground.

‘Come on,’ said Sarah, impatient, ‘try it out.’ She leaned forward and held her hand out to him. With just a moment’s hesitation, he took it, allowing her to help pull him up, using the walking stick to compensate for his right leg. It was just the right height for him. Sarah made him walk around for a minute until she was satisfied. 

‘How’s the leg feeling?’

‘It hurts, intensely,’ he grumbled, ‘but it’s better than yesterday. It’ll take at least three of your Aboveground days to heal, maybe more. I’m afraid I’ll have to take advantage of your hospitality for a while longer…’ 

He pulled her fingers up to his mouth, placing a kiss on them, then twirled her around so that she laughed in that girlish way he liked so much.

‘Why don’t you go and get a shower, try on some clothes, and I will make us something to eat?’ She collected the bags of clothes and went down the hall to put them on the bed, then nipped to run a shower for him. She popped her head around the door to the living room.

‘Unless you’re too full up on jam tarts, that is?’ she said with a wicked glint in her eyes. He’d eaten nearly two dozen that morning. She just laughed at the look on his face and shooed him toward the bathroom. When she heard the door close, she went to the hi fi system and put on one of her favourite singles, from her favourite artist.

Feeling a contentment she hadn’t felt in years, Sarah busied herself making brie, ham and chutney sandwiches, a soothing melody filling her kitchen:

_We passed upon the stair, we spoke of was and when, although I wasn’t there, he said I was his friend…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, so here's an update for you. I was hoping that I would be able to update a little more frequently but with the chapters getting longer, and the story more complex, editing them is taking a bit more of my time than I expected. As the storyline evolves, I'm having to go back and adjust previous chapters slightly, so that's holding me up too. And I've never liked editing...
> 
> In the meantime, please do check out my other shorter Fanfic, 'The Thirteenth Hour.' It's a little darker theme wise than this one, but if you're into that I would love some feedback.
> 
> Hope you're all enjoying the Labyrinthian as much as I'm enjoying writing it. Thank you for all the Kudos and Helene for the feedback. Much appreciated! Stay safe everyone! - MRYGM


	9. Chapter 9

After half an hour, having bathed, and dressed, Jareth padded into the kitchen, wearing a black KISS T-shirt and black satin pajama bottoms, using his new walking stick as if he’d had it the whole time. 

Sarah had set the dining table with a feast of sandwiches, Caesar salad, potato salad, home made coleslaw, orange juice, a fresh pot of tea, assorted biscuits and cookies and a Victoria sponge that she’d forgotten she’d made a few days before. She was busy pouring tea when he entered.

‘Well, don’t you look very Glam Rock?’ she said, amused. The tight shirt looked odd on him, accentuating his porcelain skin and slim physique, his head looking massive by comparison.

‘I don’t understand the reference,’ he quipped, pulling himself into the chair to her right. ‘I assume that my human disguise is adequate, for now?’ He raised an eyebrow in mock annoyance. ‘You were quite correct by the way, Precious, I won’t be able to fit into those denims until tomorrow at the earliest. My knee will bend, but not quite to that extent. Oh, thank you...’

Sarah had retrieved the pouffe and had pushed it under the table for him to rest his leg on. She sat back down and nodded a ‘you’re welcome’. Then, she pulled a plate towards her and started helping herself to food. 

Used to having his steward hand him his meals, Jareth took a minute before helping himself to everything in his reach.

‘I see you were reading our story earlier. What do you think?’ asked Sarah presently, between mouthfuls. She took a sip of orange juice, then tucked into another sandwich, looking at him expectantly.

Jareth used a napkin to pat food from his face, having plowed through three sandwiches and the different side dishes in a fervent hunger. He cut a few slices of sponge cake and pulled one onto a plate, he offered it to her. She took it, her eyes searching his for an answer. He placed a generous slice on a plate for himself, then picked up his mug of tea. He thought of his steward.

‘I really loved it’ he said, avoiding her green eyes, ‘especially all the images of me and the Labyrinth, and the part where I offered myself to you. Very much the way I remember it too. Though I feel like you paint me as far more villainous than I really was.’ He pursed his lips, his eyes glinting as he took another sip of tea.

‘I also see that you’ve been in touch with little Sprocket,’ he continued, his jaw hardening slightly as he said his steward’s name. ‘While her account may be accurate enough, the thoughts the pair of you put in my head hardly do that moment justice. I did not, at any point, specifically set out for a mortal as my mate of choice. I’ll have to punish her accordingly, when I return to my kingdom…’

Sarah looked at him in shock, anger and panic flaring in her face. She bent towards him.

‘Don’t you dare, Jareth!’ she said, levelling a fiery stare at him. ‘She only came to me because Sir Didymus convinced her that I should know about the Red Book, and she was extremely worried about you. Said you hadn’t been the same since you’d met me, that it was all her fault. It took me weeks to get the full story out of her.’

Amused at her defense of his traitorous, yet beloved, steward, he thought he’d see how far he could push her.

‘Aah, so it’s my Captain of the Guard I have to thank, is it? Do I have no secrets from you, my love? Have all my subjects, my entire household even, changed their allegiance to the Champion? And to think I promoted Sir Didds for his gallantry during your Labyrinth run…’

His mismatched blue eyes glinted in mischief as he sipped hot, sweet tea, watching her sit back, anger setting her jaw.

‘And you wonder why you come across as such a villain? You _did_ try to kill me. And Hoggle. And Ludo. And even Sir Didymus. Or have you forgotten that part, _Your Majesty?_ ’ 

Furious, Sarah injected as much venom into his title as she could. 

‘You’re lucky I entertain your presence here at all, Goblin King!’ she continued, practically throwing the words at him.

‘You wound me, Precious thing,’ he answered, his amusement ebbing, ‘but I could not just let you walk unscathed through the Labyrinth, not without putting some mortal danger in the way of you. Besides, you had that treacherous dwarf and that rock calling _thing_ at your beck and call. You practically had the Labyrinth itself wrapped around your little finger. It never occurred that you were in any kind of danger that you weren’t perfectly capable of getting yourself out of, Sarah. The magic of the book would not have worked if I hadn’t made a great show of it. For you.’ 

Jareth started to feel thirteen years of angst and anger rise up within him as he continued. ‘It was a test, one that you passed, exceptionally, and yet you think I would have allowed you to die? No, Sarah, I would have done what I said I would do. You would have stayed in the Underground and we would have been happy, together.’

They stared each other down for a long moment, Jareth realising that he might have pushed too far and too soon, but now that the words were said, they had needed to be said. Set free to work whatever magic might be in them.

Unconsciously pulling her legs closer and away from Jareth, Sarah spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper:

‘And what does that mean, exactly? I was fifteen, Jareth. I wasn’t ready to be a bride, I wasn’t ready for the real meaning behind being chosen by that infernal book of yours, and yes, I remember that day, clearly, young as I was. I ran the Labyrinth to save my brother because it was my only real option, I said the words I said because I was meant to knock you off that pedestal you merrily stand upon, looking down your nose at us mere mortals. Did it ever occur to you that my place in your life wasn’t to love you at all? Would you have been happy for eternity with a wife who hates the very ground you walk on!?’

Jareth forced himself to look up into Sarah’s eyes, as they bored through him, almost sparkling in her righteous fury. She’d risen as she’d dressed him down, her cruel, cruel words crashing through his fragile heart.

Sarah tore her eyes from his, convinced she saw something break within those intense blue pools. She turned on her heel and marched from the room, leaving her cake half finished, and Jareth alone to contemplate her words in silence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jareth spent ten minutes in a whirl of emotions, wondering if he’d made a mistake. All the evidence up to this moment had proven her feelings for him, but he’d never really declared his own. Perhaps he’d driven her too far? Perhaps in his own selfish need to get her to admit she loved him, to gain that power over her, he’d pushed her to loathe him instead? 

Words are their own kind of magic, especially when you’re touched by Fae, and he could still feel the power of the words she’d spat at him. They lingered in the air around him, shards of ice that pricked at his heart.

The realisation yanked him from his reflection. _Magic._

Sarah was very quickly coming into her promised magic. She needed him, desperately, and therein was his redemption. Pulling himself together, using the ambient power that Sarah had unknowingly left in his proximity, Jareth cleared away their lunch with a wave of his hand.

With difficulty, his bad leg cramping, Jareth raised himself to his feet. Collecting his walking stick, he took a deep breath, drawing strength from the knowledge that Sarah’s anger at him was based on a misconception. One that he would have to put right, if this was ever going to work.

Kissing the large diamond atop the cane for luck, Jareth went to find his future queen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hot tears stung at Sarah’s eyes as she stormed from the kitchen and into the hall, maintaining her composure long enough to get as far as the bedroom. 

Once inside, she slammed the door, throwing herself onto the bed, tossing over the neat stack of clothes that Jareth had left on the right hand side, his unofficial side of her king size bed. She let the painful knot in her chest free, allowing the tears to overwhelm her. 

Just when she thought he was different, his arrogant, selfish nature leaked through, destroying her fantasy that this creature she was supposedly destined to be bound to, was anything other than a mercurial faerie king, one that would never truly love her, because he wasn’t capable of such depth of feeling.

Allowing her despair to completely overcome her, she imagined a life that was happy and filled with promise, until her king grew tired of his mortal, and went off to frolic with nymphs and water sprites, and other fair folk, leaving her alone and unloved, just a shade of a Queen haunting the castle of the Goblin King, forever.

Unable to drown in her sorrow much longer, her own imagination fueling her pain, Sarah felt like she wanted to run, to leave the pain behind somehow. Heaving herself from her comfortable nest of anguish, she pulled some spandex workout gear from the chest of drawers. 

As she was changing out of her Levi's and the white angora sweater she wore, a knock sounded at the door.

‘Sarah,’ came Jareth’s voice, ‘Sarah, are you alright?’

‘Go away’ she said, angrily, pulling on the tight spandex pants, snatching a bobble from her dressing table.

‘But, Sarah…’ His tone was borderlining whiny territory.

She pulled the door open, her hands pulling her hair back into a severe ponytail.

‘What?’ she said through gritted teeth, pushing past him. Jareth could feel the trail of angry magic follow her as she walked down the hallway, to the chest of drawers by the front door. She pulled a contraption from a drawer, fixing it to a loop on her leggings.

Using her ambient trail of magic, Jareth vanished, appearing in the space between Sarah and the door. He looked more resolved than he felt, staring her down from under his blonde fringe.

‘Do you honestly think I knew that you were the one who wished little Jareth to me that night?’ said Jareth, slowly advancing on Sarah, the bitterness in his voice apparent. ‘I was as surprised to see you as you were to see me. I followed the rules, I played your villain, all the time watching our future crumble before me with every step you took.’

Sarah backed away from him, her face hard. _His name is Toby_ , she wanted to say, but her voice caught in her throat. She moved into the living room, her Walkman in her hands, listening to Jareth as she turned her back to him. She felt his hand on her arm.

‘Look at me, Sarah,’ he said, pulling her around to face him. He leaned hard on his walking stick, his other hand reaching out to cup her face. She turned her head away, sharply, her arms folded in defiance.

‘Just say what you need to say, Jareth.’ she muttered, curious, despite her anger.

‘I’ve watched you since you were little, Precious Thing.’ Jareth said quietly, framed by the archway he stood in. ‘I’ve kept you safe. I’ve heard your hopes and your dreams. I’ve watched you cry yourself to sleep dealing with the toils of childhood. And I watched as you bloomed into womanhood. Call it a wish if you like, but my subjects knew my hopes for you. For us. They found a way to bring us together sooner than I was planning on.’

She gave him a look that said she didn’t believe him.

‘You asked me what would have happened had you failed your run...’ Jareth moved slowly around her, fiddling with a ring on his right signet finger. He stood in front of the fireplace, leaning back on it to take some weight off his leg, his walking stick nestled in the crook of his arm. The afternoon sun illuminated him, as it fell in gentle beams across that side of the room. His beautiful face and intense blue eyes, one constantly dilated, shone in the light, setting off his ethereal quality, in sharp relief to the modern clothes he wore.

‘I’m not a monster, Sarah. I know that Fae have a reputation amongst humans when it comes to carrying off maidens in the night. But, while it might have been true in the past, it's now law that no High Born Fae in the Underground can marry before both parties are twenty one or over. The only caveat is that the age of betrothal is twelve, but mostly because the majority of marriages for those of my birth are a political affair, and arranged when both parties are practically in their cradles. Honestly, had you accepted my offer, I would have allowed you to return home until you reached the age of consent, eighteen for my people. Then we would have enjoyed a long engagement until we were ready to marry. Does that really sound so awful?’

Sarah blinked across at him, stood there looking haughty, yet vulnerable, unsure how she felt.

‘And Toby?’ was all she said, raising an eyebrow.

Jareth smiled, his pointed teeth showing at the edges.

‘Well, your acceptance would have made you my betrothed, and as fond as I am of my subjects, with all their weirdness and their mischief, I couldn’t very well have a _goblin_ as a brother in law, now could I...?’

Sarah absorbed his words for a second, her thoughts bent inward. She was so very confused at this point. Jareth was giving her whiplash with all the revelations he was laying on her. She moved to the sofa, pulling her head through her hands.

Jareth stood staring at her. He wasn’t finished.

‘That little red book that chose you… There was a reason I left you alone all these years, _Beloved_. I realised, eventually, that it told you the story of the girl who defeated the Goblin King, because it knew that you needed time to grow, in your own mortal way, and into your magic. Just like the Labyrinth chose you as its Champion, effectively making you my equal. And I... I needed to learn how to put something else before myself. It was its own special kind of misery, watching you grow and flourish, without being able to be part of your life… Sarah.’

He trailed off for a second. When he spoke next, his voice was very close.

‘And then you walked into my dreams and I knew you were ready…’

Jareth had crossed the living room, coming to kneel before Sarah, ignoring the searing pain in his right leg. He would walk over a mountain of glass if that’s what it took to win her. He tilted her chin until she looked up at him. Her sharp, green eyes weren't welcoming, but they didn’t dismiss him either.

‘I have something for you…’

He pulled a ring from his signet finger and placed it in her hands, closing them around it. He then pulled himself up and went to stand at the fireplace again.

Sarah looked at the ring in her hands. It had a brilliant cut diamond in the middle, with twelve smaller diamonds surrounding it, set in a tree motif, with black, yellow and white gold branches interweaving, in a level of detail that she didn’t think was possible. As she watched, the diamond turned a deep, blood red, then it went a bright, dazzling blue.

‘Jareth, it’s gorgeous!’ she gasped, eyes wide, turning it over and over in her fingers, exploring every facet.

‘It was my mother’s...’ said Jareth, a wistful smile on his lips. ‘It’s only right that you have it. But…’

Without thinking, Sarah slipped the ring on her finger, somehow it seemed the right thing to do. It fit perfectly. Then she felt a weird sensation go through her. A vision of Jareth standing at an altar, looking more beautiful than she thought was possible, filled her mind’s eye, and she was walking toward him…

She snapped back to reality, feeling a little ill at the jolt.

‘Too late’ Jareth sighed, hobbling toward her as gracefully as he could. ‘I was just about to tell you not to put it on. But, what’s done is done. By Fae law, we’re now, officially, married...'


	10. Chapter 10

‘Married? What the hell is going on?’

Sarah pulled herself to her feet to stare angrily at Jareth. He raised his chin, returning her gaze with haughty indifference.

‘I did try to warn you, Precious, but it seems the pull of being my wife was too much of a draw for you.’ 

Jareth gave her a rueful smile, as she tried her best to pull the ring off. It wouldn't budge.

‘You won’t be able to take it off until we consummate our marriage…’ he said quietly. 

Sarah could hear resignation in his voice, but also happiness, relief and _maybe_ arousal. She felt the anger rise in her, but something else didn’t add up. She fiddled with the ring for a long moment. It was quite stunning.

She looked up at him as she pursed her lips, quizzical, raking her eyes over his face, trying to gather the words together. Then she remembered the proposal.

‘Two years ago you asked me to marry you, in a dream.’ she said, her brow furrowed. ‘You can’t tell me that was real? I don’t even remember what my answer was. I’m assuming even Fae law needs an affirmative from both of us to be ‘legal’? And if I remember correctly, I wasn’t in much of a mood to entertain your bullshit at the time, Jareth.’

The Fae King’s lips curled in a smirk.

‘Oh yes, I remember you were quite animated in your rejection of my person from your personal space, my love. But you seemed to warm up to me, eventually.’ 

He smiled his pointy Jareth smile. ‘As I said, I was under the impression you had come looking for me, since you broke in on my solitude so abruptly. And yes, Fae law expects consent from both parties, even if it’s in the dreamscape.’

Sarah’s stomach fell, and she went to sit back on the sofa, trying to remember what happened in the rest of the dream. Jareth sat himself on the edge of the coffee table, worry creeping into his face as he looked into hers.

‘What do you remember, Sarah?’

His voice was gentle. It made it harder to be mad with him. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, feeling his fingers entwine around hers. It was comforting as hell.

‘I was running through the hedge maze,’ she said, seeing it clearly in her mind. ‘There was music, and faeries. You were singing a sad, beautiful song. Then you came to me, kissed me, I slapped you. You told me I was the Labyrinthian, the Champion. You said that you’d missed me, and then I saw you standing far away, your hand stretched towards me. You asked me to marry you, and then, there’s nothing...’

‘Hmmm, that won’t do’ muttered Jareth, ‘Can I borrow a little Magic from you, again?’

Sarah nodded, and she felt the strange sensation of something being pulled from her again. Then, she was in the dreamscape once more. Jareth was standing next to her, holding her hand, wearing something more his style. He held the walking stick in the crook of one arm, and pulled her hand into the other.

‘You recognise where we are?’ he asked.

Sarah looked around, nodding. They were by the square pond in the middle of the courtyard that contained the Faerie tree. She could see herself, standing in her white sundress with matching heels, facing off against Jareth, who was saying something. The words came to her as if they were carried on the wind from far away.

_‘…You can’t imagine what an agony each day of the last eleven years has been, without having you here. With us.’_

_‘What do you mean, “us”’ asked Sarah, slowly approaching Jareth, who was leading her to where the feast sat under the tree, waiting._

_‘Well, you left so many friends, poor Hoggy for one.’ Jareth said, drolly, his teeth flashing. ‘Even his punishment of guarding the bridge over the Bog of Eternal Stench for a year didn’t dampen his love of you. Sir Didymus, that great oaf you saved from the goblin guard, even the Labyrinth itself has been in a malaise since you left us, Sarah.’_

_Jareth smiled and threw himself down onto the pile of cushions, grabbing a handful of nuts from a bowl, slowly popping them into his smirking mouth, his eyes never leaving hers._

_Sarah approached, feeling very confused. She was mad at his presumptuousness, but also felt the compliment deeply. Then she laughed to herself. It was only a dream, just a side effect of her spending the last decade fantasising about Jareth coming to claim her, half dreading it, half wanting it. Feeling a deep loneliness, Sarah sat down next to Jareth, crossed legged, neatly fanning her skirt over her shapely calves._

Sarah remembered that deep, overwhelming feeling of loneliness, unconsciously leaning into Jareth, who felt the pain emulate from her, and placed his hand over hers, reassuringly.

_Jareth had picked up the instrument, playing a song that clearly spoke of happiness in being reunited with his love, though the words were in that strange, musical language again. Sarah lay back, watching sunlight dance through the leaves of the ancient oak tree above her. She closed her eyes._

_Presently the beat changed, becoming more rhythmic, and she was sure she heard other instruments chiming in from the aether. He was singing in English:_

_‘...It’s only forever, it’s not long at all, I stand here lonely, that’s Underground, Underground…’_

_He stopped singing, and yet the melody was still playing, as if the rustling breeze carried the tune. She opened her eyes to see Jareth, propped up on one arm, gazing down at her, a smile playing on the edges of his mouth._

_‘What?’ she said, raising an arm above her head, to rest it under the pillow beneath her._

_‘I can’t believe you’re really here,’ he breathed, ‘though I’ve been expecting you every day for what feels like a century...’ His eyes danced over her every curve, taking in every millimetre of exposed skin._

_‘But, am I real?’ she said, raising a perfect, dark eyebrow. ‘How do you know I’m not a figment of your overactive imagination?’_

_Her mouth crinkled at the edges as she tried not to grin._

_‘Clever, my love, sowing that seed of doubt, just as you’ve mended my poor, aching heart.’ he said cooly, theatrically clutching his hand to his breast. ‘But I know it’s definitely you, for never in my wildest dreams could I do your beauty, or your insolence, or those very fine legs, justice…’_

_He grinned mischievously, breaking into a laugh as he batted away the throw pillow she’d tossed at him._

_‘Your being here also means something very important, Precious.’ he continued, so close that she could feel his warm breath on her skin, ‘As the Labyrinth’s only true Champion, and having been ‘touched by Fae’, as it were, you are no longer mortal. You’re still human, but magic is now part of you too, Sarah. Eventually, it will manifest fully, but, that’s still a little ways off, I think. It just means that the Underground is now as much a part of you as your mortal world. And if you like, it could be your home.’_

_Jareth smiled down at her, obviously expecting her to explode with the same happy energy that was evidently coursing through him. He could barely stay still, his body clearly wanting to move in time to the music that was tinkling in the air. He caught her hand in his as he jumped to his feet._

_‘Dance with me, Sarah’ he said, grinning, pulling her to her feet. They did a waltz around the pool, lapping it a number of times, very much like they had in the ballroom she’d broken out of. She pulled away as the memory overtook the fun she was having. Was this just another trick?_

_Jareth came up behind her as she walked off, hugging herself. He folded his arms over hers. She leaned back into his warmth and his heady scent. He turned her to face him, pulling her forward to place a gentle kiss on her lips, his arms circling around her waist. Then, he pulled away, looking into her eyes._

_‘Marry me, Sarah.’ he whispered, holding his hand out to her. ‘Let me love you, forever.’_

_Once again, Jareth offered her her dreams, this time asking no submission from her. A dream can last forever, after all. She found herself walking forward, placing her hand in his. She put her lips to his ear._

_‘I will.’_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sarah found herself abruptly sitting on her sofa, Jareth looking into her eyes from where he sat on the coffee table, his medallion glinting in the sunlight against the KISS T-shirt, an unfathomable look in his intense blue orbs.

_‘Shit’_ she cursed, softly, putting her head in her hands with a groan. 

_What’s said is said._

Her research into the Underground had yielded some interesting knowledge. Words had their own power, power that must obviously work in the dreamscape too. Once you make a promise, you’re bound to it. And in a moment of need, perhaps a moment of love, she’d accepted his offer. Only Jareth could release her from it.

‘So, that’s it?’ she asked him, feeling a weird sense of anticlimax. ‘You give me a ring, and we’re married? No planning, no ceremony, just a half-dreamed ‘I do’ and we’re wed?’

Jareth looked at her sadly, and she saw her disappointment mirrored in his eyes.

‘Not normally, but, yes. We’ve been betrothed for two years, technically. But my plan was to walk through that portal yesterday, at the thirteenth hour of the thirteenth year, and claim my bride. I would have whisked you off to my castle, we would have consummated our love, in the flesh this time, then we would have made our engagement tour of the kingdom. There would have been ample time to plan a magnificent ceremony...’ 

The corners of his mouth bent downward, in mourning for what could have been.

‘So, why can’t we still do that?’ said Sarah, her eyebrows crinkling together. ‘I don’t get what’s changed?’

Jareth sighed.

‘A dream...’ he said, pulling himself back to his feet with a grunt. ‘The dreamscape facilitates long distance relationships, for Fae kind, in that you can do almost everything you normally would within it, except conceive a child, as the magic of our world counts the words said as said, regardless. Your inexperience with it notwithstanding, that dream we shared at 1am your time, yesterday, the vows we made then stand as our joining oath to each other. When you slipped the ring on, you created the third seal. The final seal is the act of love.’

Jareth bit his lip.

‘I’m sorry, Sarah, I should have told you before I gave you the ring. I wanted to have a real ceremony too. The dreamscape, legality aside, it just didn’t feel right, especially since it was so rudely interrupted...’

Sarah was staring at him, a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach.

‘Jareth, I don’t know what’s happened here, but I never dreamed of a ceremony. I saw the first dream, and I saw the second dream, and then I was in the Labyrinth, running from the castle, and there was lightning. Then you were there, holding it all off. You kissed me, told me you loved me and then, you sent me away.’ Sarah raised herself from her seat, agitated. She needed to run.

Jareth looked at her, sharply. That made no sense. He’d dreamt of the ceremony, he’d made his vows, he’d heard her make hers. He’d pressed his lips to hers, felt her quiver under his touch. And then, he’d woken to chaos. 

Before Jareth could collect his thoughts in any sensible order, Sarah was practically running out of the door.

‘Sarah? Wait...’ 

Jareth wasn’t in any fit state to follow her as she collected her Walkman, and was gone. He stood at the door and watched her disappear down the lane, away from him, as fast as her tanned legs could carry her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sarah ran. She ran and she ran, every word Jareth had said to her coursing through her mind, the voice of her favourite artist doing little to soothe her, rather just reminding her of Jareth’s layered, throaty singing voice.

_Didn’t know what time it was, and the lights were low oh oh, I leaned back on my radio oh oh, some cat was laying down some rock & roll, ‘lotta soul, he said…_

Her breath burning in her lungs, she finally stopped, bending over to take in deep breaths of cool, fresh air, she noticed that she was miles past the village, hearing the sound of cars traversing the motorway that was just over the hill. She’d followed the path alongside the river, her feet taking her where they were most comfortable, her mind occupied elsewhere. She leant up against a tree that was leaning toward the water as if trying to see its reflection, as she stretched out her sore muscles.

_I had to phone someone, so I picked on you oo oo, Hey that’s far out, so you heard him too oo oo, switch on the TV, we may pick him up on channel two…_

Closing her eyes, she bent forward, her legs spread apart to give her a good stretch, hands clasped behind her and pushed out to ease the tension in her shoulders.

‘Well, that's certainly an interesting angle to appreciate you from...’ came Jareth’s voice over the music.

Sarah nearly jumped out of her skin. She pulled her earphones from her head, furious. Jareth stood behind her, wearing the black leather jacket and matching gloves she’d bought for him that morning, a self satisfied grin on his face as he admired her curves.

‘The hell, Jareth? I thought you didn’t have enough Magic to pull tricks like that right now?’ She sat down at the bottom of the tree, annoyed as she continued her stretching.

‘You’ve been gone for an age, my love.’ he pouted in response. ‘I was worried about you. In your rush to leave, you left behind quite a nice little trail of ambient magic, which seems to be leaking out of you whenever your emotions are heightened. It was enough to let me scry for you and appear here. Lovely, isn’t it?’

He leant against the tree, crossing his hands over his walking stick, appearing the very image of a gentleman, admiring the picture perfect river running lazily below him, gold and red autumn leaves floating across the reflections of their parent trees.

It _was_ kinda late, thought Sarah, as she bent forward, stretching out her back. The run was doing its job, making her feel better, allowing her mind to clear so she could think straight. She watched as the shadows were lengthening, realising it was nearly sunset.

‘I suppose you need help getting back’ she said, pulling herself back to her feet, her jaw clenching as she looked at him, set perfectly against the backdrop, as if he was a goddamned painting or something.

‘Oh,’ he said, looking her way. ‘If I’m honest, I didn’t really consider how I was getting back. Which reminds me, you’ll be glad to know that, although we are still very much engaged, I suspect that the woman I married in that dream I had wasn’t you at all.’

Sarah blinked up at him, kind of shocked, and kind of furious. She didn’t know which was worse, the idea that she’d married him without knowing, or that he’d married someone else without knowing instead. She felt a fire build in her belly. How dare someone marry _her_ fiancé!

‘Who would try to trick _you_ into marriage though?’ she said, her hands on her hips, wondering who, besides her, would want to wed and bed the Goblin King?

_Pretty much anyone with eyes_ said her very jealous subconscious. She agreed. If raw sex appeal was a person, its name would be Jareth. She couldn’t really blame herself for being completely obsessed with him for the last thirteen years.

‘Oof,’ smirked Jareth, ‘that would cut deeply, Precious thing, if I didn’t know how lusted after I was, by many a green eyed maid and man, Under and Aboveground, Fae and mortal alike...’ 

He laughed at the look on her face, enjoying watching her squirm in discomfort. She crossed her arms and gave him an irritated scowl, which just amused him further. He pasted a serious look to his face as he spoke, however.

‘But in answer, only one person makes any sense.’

‘And that would be?’ asked Sarah.

_‘Valkyr’_ he growled, his eyes flashing in anger.

‘What!?’ exclaimed Sarah, almost recoiling in shock. A cold wind rustled through the trees, making her shiver.

‘I’ll tell you all about it over dinner, we really should be getting back’ said Jareth, putting his warm arms around her. ‘Consider this your first lesson in Magic...’

He told her to close her eyes and take a deep breath, imagining her magic as a thing, like a cloud. Then to think of a room in her house. Then she should envision them stepping into the cloud, moving from where they were, to a specific spot.

Sarah closed her eyes, trying to picture something one could walk into. She smiled, seeing a flying, red double-decker bus appear, which she saw them jumping onto, holding tight as it sailed through the sky, to let them off in her kitchen, then vanishing through a wall.

In a majestic swirl of autumn leaves and glitter, Jareth and Sarah vanished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, hope life is treating you well. Crazy things going off in the world right now. I've felt in need of much escapism lately, doing a lot of writing, and, as always, rabid for updates from my favourite fan fics. Found some new ones to obsess over too ;)
> 
> Hope you're enjoying this as much as I am enjoying writing it, currently half way through a very exciting scene later on, though I think it's time I went to bed. Also, there may or may not be some accompanying artwork that I've been working on lately...
> 
> The song Sarah was listening to is _Starman_ by David Bowie, from his album _The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars_. As if you didn't know that already though haha
> 
> Thank you so much for the feedback and Kudos. Stay safe - MRYGM


	11. Chapter 11

Valkyr marched around the throne room of the red obsidian palace she had hastily built on top of the ruins of Jareth’s castle, the long black cloak across her shoulders sweeping regally across the shining floor. 

Her raven hair waved halfway down her back, silver and black Fae markings glittered at her eyebrows and across her cheeks, framing her green eyes, while a deep scar marred one side of her face, as it sliced through her left eyebrow, and down her cheek, her left eye constantly bloodshot. She looked both fierce and beautiful, the scar just adding to her gravitas.

Her full, ruby mouth belied the many evils that it had commanded in the past, and would in the future. Before her knelt those who were instructed to beat Jareth into submission. Make him pliable to the spell she had created just for him. She had even gone to the trouble of stealing memories from his precious mortal just to make it all the more believable.

While the Lords of the Black City guarded its nexus, no-one ruled over the Dreamscape, but Valkyr had a special way with it. She’d spent thousands of years using it to influence both mortals and Fae alike, having her sycophants all over the Underground, her legacy influencing entire dynasties Above.

There was even a longstanding mythology surrounding her host of shieldmaidens, called Valkyrie after her Norse name, Walkyrja, which she had gained from her original place as Ruler of the Mortlands. It meant ‘Chooser of the Slain’ in Old Norse. 

Those wounded or dying, especially on battlefields, sometimes crossed over to the Immortal Lands as they passed through the Veil between worlds, and between life and death. Her army was tasked with finding these lost souls and treating them to a hot meal and honey mead, waited on by their fair rescuers, then sent back to life, or onward to their deaths.

The Valkyrie were also the army of the High Crown, called on in times of war and peace alike, to tend to the reigning monarch’s military needs, and to guard their person during times of political upheaval.

Her original name lost to time, Valkyr eventually got tired of spending her time in the freezing lands of the North, tending to Mortals, battling frost giants and hordes of ice golems, insisting that she had a place at Court, her Second more than capable of ruling Valhalla.

Able to convince them of her usefulness, she became a trusted advisor for centuries, the Military Envoy to the High Queen Oester, until she attempted a coup, splitting the allegiance of the Valkyrie, pitting sister against sister in one of the bloodiest battles ever recorded in the Underground. 

It was when the High Queen entered the fray, putting the might of the Crystalline Citadel to use against the insurgents, that Valkyr saw her inevitable defeat and surrendered. Not wanting to make her into a martyr, Oester exiled the Ice Queen and what was left of her loyal Valkyrie back to the frozen North, their services still very important to keep balance between dimensions. Those who had fought for the Crown became the trusted guard of the High Court.

It was then that Valkyr had sworn to destroy the bloodline of the original rulers of the Underground, though she’d played nice for millenia. Valhalla produced the most well trained warriors known to the Underground, and in a show of good faith, she would send her most gifted to serve the High Crown once they were fully trained.

But as the years rolled on, Valkyr held true to her oath, the descendents of the First Queen slowly falling to her plots and schemes. A poisoning here, a fatal accident there. Then, she incited a war between a few minor principlaities within the Goblin Kingdom just to draw out Endoreth, the Goblin King. 

Succeeding in her manipulation, she worked a spell that would make him vulnerable, using his dreams and his fears against him, and with little effort on her part, Endoreth fell to her sword, his magic useless against her. All that was left was to take down his son, and then her oath would be satisfied, and there would be nothing left standing in her way.

Except the magic in his blood protected Jareth from her reach, as did his position as ruler of the Goblin Kingdom and custodian of the Labyrinth. In addition, his mother, one of Valkyr’s most gifted apprentices, had cursed the Ice Queen as she had laid dying on the battlefield. Her last incantation meant that Valkyr couldn’t come within a hundred leagues of Jareth’s borders, and his generally antisocial proclivities meant he left his domain so rarely that it wasn’t worth her waiting for him to come to her.

This Goblin King was also a powerful sorcerer in his own right, his power was both feared and admired at Court. As ancient and gifted as she was, Valkyr doubted that she could take down a tripartite threat like Jareth Agratheon in a fair fight. 

No, his demise would have to be a subtle removal of his defences, not an all out assault. She would use everything he loved to break him. And it would be _glorious._

As much as she loved the idea of destroying the last of Oester’s descendents, after thousands of years plotting to overthrow those who had treated her as lesser, Valkyr also really wanted the Labyrinth. 

It wasn’t just a fancy puzzle box that had stumped the minds of the smartest of Fae, or an intricate prison, built to take down the enemies of the rarest and most powerful of bloodlines. The Labyrinth predated almost their entire civilization. It was a powerful magical entity in its own right, parts of it built within the Veil itself, able to send its rulers between worlds at will, or drop its enemies randomly into another space and time. 

It also held the archive of the Fair Folk, a complete written history of her people that was so vast, it was said to be contained in a room that was just a portal to a whole micro universe. 

The Labyrinth had been built by the First Queen, using her raw magical ability and the incredible engineering minds of the goblin races that still call its lands home. It was the first seat of power in the Underground, until the Fae became numerous enough to build other citadels, abandoning the Labyrinth and its secrets for millenia, until Jareth’s uncle was exiled there in disgrace, having taken a powerless mortal as his bride.

And therein was his destruction. It seemed that Jareth too was pining over a mortal girl, the Labyrinthian, now grown to womanhood. When Valkyr had seen the girl enter Jareth’s dreams, she’d gleefully formed her plan, and it had worked... almost.

A raven flew through a window, landing on Valkyr’s shoulder as she paced up and down, her heels click-clacking on the obsidian.

She stroked the soft throat of the bird with the crook of a finger.

‘Where is he?’ she said, her voice ominous.

‘It appears he was pulled into the Labyrinth, Majesty’ said the leader of the Valkyrie, her head almost scraping the floor as she bowed before her ruler.

‘Oh? Is that so?’ said Valkyr, quietly, her voice menacing. ‘Jareth shouldn't have been able to go anywhere. My spell was almost complete. He was locked out of his own Labyrinth… You must have overlooked something.’

Valkyr bent to lift the chin of the Valkyrie with a scarlet gloved finger, making the woman look into her eyes. The Captain was terrified, but hid it well. A shame.

‘You were one of my favourites, Hildi.’ whispered Valkyr, her tongue clicking against her teeth. ‘Such a shame. Your children will miss you...’

Valkyr raised her hands, palm upward, the air around her spitting with electricity. Her eyes glinting with malice, she called down red lightning, using the arcane focus built into the ceiling of her palace to amplify it, sending it straight into the prostrate woman at her feet. 

Hildi screamed as she glowed hot and bright, and then burst into blue flames. Her screams died as her body crumpled under its own weight, her death mercifully quick.

In seconds she was nothing but a pile of ash, which Valkyr disposed of with a flick of her wrist. She walked up to her throne, a massive diamond shaped slab of obsidian, with a padded seat and armrests built into it. She sat down, throwing a long leg over the other, the raven leaving her shoulder to go and sit on his roost.

The Ice Queen thought back to the dream that she’d pulled Jareth into, where she’d pretended to be this Sarah creature, had used the girl’s memories to build a convincing personality, the ceremony being the next logical step in the dream sequence.

It was his vows to her that had broken the spell that had kept her away. She’d hijacked the Dreamscape, keeping Sarah locked in her own memories, sending the host in ahead of her, as she stood at an altar, had given herself to Jareth, creating the first marital seal between them. And even though Jareth had thought he was saying his joining vows to his mortal wench, Valkyr had used her own personal loophole, which meant that Jareth had technically declared himself to both Sarah and Valkyr at the same time, sealing their bond with a kiss.

She had moved in on him quickly, taking advantage of the Magical seals that she’d created, allowing her to enter his lands and swiftly subjugate his defences. She had meant for her guard to bring him to her, broken, ready to bargain for his life. Then he would have been hers, and his fate sealed. 

Once their union was consummated, here in the castle at the centre of the original seat of his family's power, here where his ancestor had laid down so much of her power, then she would have watched him _burn._

‘There’s only one way that Jareth could have escaped.’ she said to her elite guard, haughtily, knowing that it put a huge ruffle in her perfectly laid plans. ‘He was summoned… by _her._ ’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sprocket was hidden behind a wall, having volunteered to be the eyes and ears of the Resistance that was being hastily mounted behind the walls of the Labyrinth. 

Silently, she slipped away, running down the steps that took her down, down, down, to the ruins of Jareth’s castle and the catacombs beneath it.

She knocked three times on a boulder set into the foundations, sounding out a particular rhythmic tone. It lifted just enough to create a gap for her to fit through. Sprocket looked around, quickly, before she dove through it. 

Unbeknownst to her, a raven alighted a top the rock, having followed her silently through the dank catacombs. He scanned the area, taking in the details around him, then he flew back toward the light...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sprocket followed the tunnel in the pitch dark, her keen goblin senses helping her find the way. After many ups and downs, twists and turns, she finally climbed up and into the forest. Taking two lefts then a right at a rock shaped like Jareth, feeling a pang for her master as she passed, she came upon a door in a tree. 

She rapped at it sharply. It opened, light pouring through it as hands reached out and pulled the tiny goblin in.

The room was packed. Sir Didymus was pouring over maps and plans, the leader of the Goblin Militia was arguing with Hoggle, who was slapping at the fairies buzzing around his head, and Ludo was sitting looking forlorn in a corner. There were goblins, fireys and all manner of pixies everywhere you looked. The room went silent as she entered.

‘What news, Sprocket? asked Sir Didymus

‘I know where His Majesty is’ she squeaked. ‘He’s safe, for now, I think. But Valkyr knows where he is too. He’s with the Champion.’

‘Sawah!’ cried Ludo, perking up a little.

‘Excellent work, Sprocket!’ said Sir Didymus, patting Sprocket on the head, Ambrosius taking her for a victory lap around the table, knocking over a bunch of goblins on the way.

‘There's more though.’ said Sprocket, looking terrified. She stood on Ambrosius’s back to whisper something into Hoggle’s ear that made all the blood drain from his ruddy, dwarven face.

‘We is going to need a mirror, and quick...’


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, hope all is well during these crazy times of ours. And I hope your 2021 is going as well as possible so far.
> 
> How are you enjoying the story? I'm curious what you think of Valkyr and my Faerie take on the legend of the Valkyrie?
> 
> As always, thank you for the feedback and the Kudos, it's very much appreciated <3
> 
> Stay safe - MRYGM

It was a strange sensation when Sarah pulled herself and Jareth from her imaginary bus and into the kitchen. It tingled, and burned at her insides a little, and she felt the sensation of something being pulled from her again. But, she also had a sense of control that she didn’t have before.

She opened her eyes, her Goblin King smiling down at her. They stood just to the side of the dining room table, the last light of the sun just disappearing from the room.

‘Well done, my love.’ said Jareth, his arms still holding her to him. She went to step away, but her knees buckled beneath her, and she staggered, Jareth looping an arm around her.

‘Steady there, Precious,’ he said, helping her to a chair, ‘first time can take it out of you a bit, especially when it’s not just you. Next time will be easier. You did exceptionally well though, I must say, I didn’t have to help you at all...’

Jareth smiled, then went to make tea, having worked out how to do some basic tasks without relying on his magic. Mostly, he did them one handed, using his walking stick to move around.

‘I’m going to go get a shower’ said Sarah, having recovered. She flicked the lights on on her way out.

‘Would you like me to join you?’ said Jareth, in his deep, sexy voice, as he watched her round the archway into the hall.

‘Maybe another time...’ came Sarah’s voice as she disappeared.

Jareth grinned and bit his lip, busying himself with brewing tea to keep his mind off the very idea.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Having showered and changed into some leisure pants and a jumper, Sarah walked into her kitchen, feeling the chill of the night as she ramped up the central heating again. Jareth was sitting at the table, with a fresh pot of tea and some biscuits left over from earlier. He had his leg propped up on the pouffe.

She was grateful as she slipped into the chair at the head of the oak table, a fresh cup of tea placed into her hands. She sipped it, noting he seemed to know exactly how she liked her tea without ever asking.

‘How’s the leg doing?’ asked Sarah, watching a twinge of pain course over Jareth’s features. The bruises to his face looked like they had almost healed. Even without access to his Magic, his Fae biology clearly meant he had rapidly accelerated healing.

‘It’s still bad, but getting better.’ he said, his eyes dark and intense in the low lighting. He pulled up the leg of the pajama bottoms he wore, showing her that the burn now appeared as if it was just under the skin, the two different kinds of magic still fighting each other as they raced across it.

‘It does look rather painful’ Sarah said, as she went to make them some dinner. ‘I take it you’re hungry?’

‘I’m always ravenous when I’m in your company, Sarah’ said Jareth, smirking at her as he watched her over the back of his chair.

Sarah was thankful that she was looking away from him, as the hard knot of desire twisted in her stomach again, bringing a blush to her cheeks. Knowing that she had accepted his proposal just intensified these feelings in her, her body already preparing for his promised touch. It was infuriating.

‘Is there anything you don’t like? I was thinking rump steaks, baked potatoes with cheese, and salad on the side? Nothing too complex...’ she said in response, ignoring his remark.

‘I’m not all that familiar with human cuisine, but that sounds spectacular, Sarah.’ said Jareth, sipping his tea.

Sarah nodded and skewered a couple of potatoes, buttering them, then wrapped them in foil. She did the same to two more then placed them in the oven at 200*C. She put the steaks onto the counter to warm up, then tossed a green salad with feta cheese, carrots julienne, and a mixture of olive oil and balsamic vinegar. She then grated some cheddar and put it to one side.

Pulling a bottle of South African Shiraz from a wine rack, she took the bottle and two glasses across to the table, after uncorking the bottle to let it breathe.

‘We’ve got a while before it’s time to cook the meat,’ she said, setting them down and organising the table as she spoke, going back for the salad. ‘You want to tell me about Valkyr?’

‘Aaah, yes,’ said Jareth, ‘well, it was very obvious to me, when I was in that third dream, that it wasn’t mine. The dreamscape doesn’t create the dreams, you see, it just facilitates people crossing over into each other’s, which you can only do by magic. But, it becomes noticeable when you’re in your own dreams versus being in someone else’s, almost like a signature.

‘I naturally assumed that it was your dream, even though it didn’t really feel like you at all. But never having walked in your dreams, I didn’t know the difference. You need an invite for it to work properly. That’s why you found mine so accessible to you.

‘Then, when you informed me that you were locked into the previous two experiences, so it wasn’t yours at all, it occurred to me that the only person, besides us, who could gain anything from a dream, would be Valkyr. I don’t know how she did it, but she got me to surrender some of myself, by tricking me into saying my vows to her. And yet, the ring still recognises you as my betrothed...

‘So, that’s why she struck at sunrise, her host was waiting for Valkyr to drop my defenses, expecting me to be fully under her spell by the time they sacked my castle and the Goblin City. Now that I think about it, it makes perfect sense.’

Jareth looked furious as he spoke about it. His jaw a taut, angry line, he pulled the bottle of wine toward him, with a glass, and half filled it, passing it to Sarah. He then filled the other just a little higher, taking a long drink from it.

Sarah played with the stem of the glass for a second.

‘Thing is… I think it _was_ my dream, Jareth… only I didn’t remember...’ mused Sarah, bringing the glass to her lips. She took a drink, letting the red wine flow over her tongue. She continued when he looked across at her, sternly, confusion evident in his face. 

‘From what you said, I think she must have replaced me with herself. When I put the ring on, I saw you standing at an altar. Do they even have altars in Fae weddings?’

Jareth pursed his lips, gazing across at her, thoughtful.

‘They do, but not one you would recognise as such. The whole ceremony is rather different from what you would expect, I assume...’

Jareth trailed off, in thought, his still gloved hands steepled to his lips as he processed the idea. It occurred to Sarah that he looked quite strange wearing gloves with a t-shirt, and wished that current human fashions were a little more fancy. His fashion sense was clearly a part of his identity, and was something he seemed to enjoy… Considering his half dozen outfit changes in the ten hours she’d run the Labyrinth, at least.

As the silence stretched into a minute, Sarah sipped her wine, imagining an off-white, high collared, silk shirt, with a ruffle around the throat, secured with a very nice Victorian style cameo, paired with a sparkling black waist coat covered in tiny gems. 

_Yes, that would be much more him,_ she thought, as she drew the outfit over him with her eyes.

She nearly spat out a mouthful of wine as the very outfit she’d imagined literally drew itself over his body, golden light tracing its way across him, from his wrists all the way up his neck. It looked even sexier than she’d imagined.

Jareth heard her make a sound and startled out of his reverie, watching the magic trace its way across him, leaving him dressed much more elegantly than he had been. He looked across at her, a smile playing its way over his mouth.

‘I wasn’t aware a costume change was required.’ he said, adjusting the cuffs of the long sleeved shirt. Sarah was staring at him, her eyes wide. 

‘Thank you though, it’s rather comfortable.’ His eyes gleamed with humour, and something else. Trepidation, maybe?

‘I…’ stammered Sarah. She took a long swig of her wine. _What was going on?_

‘I was just imagining something more your style, and then…’ she gestured at him, horror etched across her face.

Jareth leaned toward her, and she felt his gloved fingers wrap around the hand that was resting on the corner of the table. She closed her eyes. _Why was his touch so bloody soothing?_

‘Sarah, it’s fine,’ he said, his voice low, reassuring, squeezing her hand gently. ‘This is perfectly normal. It’s just a symptom of the Magic building up inside of you. The more you use it, the more it’ll try to push its way out of you, until you have control over it.’

Sarah looked at him in shock. That did not sound like a good thing.  
Jareth smirked, sitting back in his chair. Sarah reluctantly released the comfort of his fingers as he pulled away.

‘Second lesson in Magic... Control.’ said Jareth, steepling his fingers against his mouth again. ‘Your magic is manifesting itself at a, frankly, alarming rate, and is now at a level where it is starting to hone in on your focus. You wanted something and the power inside you complied. As grateful as I am for the outfit, it's best that you don’t allow it to choose what it does and doesn’t manifest.’

‘And how do I do that?’ muttered Sarah, interested, despite the fact the very idea was frightening.

‘Close your eyes. Sit back, get comfortable. Take deep breaths and try to clear your mind...’ ordered Jareth, his voice so commanding it sent a little chill through her. She complied, sitting back into the high-backed dining chair. She tried to clear her mind of the fear that kept trying to creep in.

‘Now, I want you to put all of your senses into feeling your magic. It’s inside you. You should start to see it as an object. Maybe a river, or a waterfall, but something that’s alive, that moves.’ murmured Jareth.

A moment passed.

‘I’m in the Labyrinth.’ said Sarah, seeing the stone walls rise up in the darkness, obelisks leaning in as if compelled by a stronger gravity. There was a light ahead, pulling her, and she moved forward, drawn toward it as she reached out for her power.

‘There’s something in the distance, I’m walking towards it.’ she realised she was speaking aloud.

‘Very good, Sarah. Keep going. Tell me what you see.’ came Jareth’s voice.

‘It’s bright.’ she said, ‘and it’s hot. Like a Sun. Like a mini star sat in the middle of the Labyrinth...’

Sarah gasped, the light trying to repel her even though it was also pulling her closer.

‘It’s fighting you’ said Jareth, the excitement in his voice evident, as Sarah watched the brilliant red and white and yellow orb grow larger and rise up, until it was hovering over the walls of the Labyrinth.

‘Don’t let it. Push forward, Sarah. It’s _your_ power, it can’t hurt you.’

‘I’m moving closer, but it’s getting harder. It’s also out of my reach. I don’t think it’ll let me near it, Jareth.’ she said, pushing against the hot wind that was now coming off the power radiating above her. She felt sweat drip from her face as she fought her way closer, willing it to come to her.

‘Fight it, Sarah, don’t let it rule you.’ came Jareth’s voice, and she saw him standing ahead of her in the Labyrinth, his hair whipping around him in the air sweeping in his direction, watching in interest as she finally stood right under the burning orb of power, her hands reaching out. She gritted her teeth as she willed it to come to her.

Slowly, the orb started to both shrink and lower itself, until finally it was small enough to fit into her hands. She looked at Jareth, who smiled and nodded, and she knew what to do.

Despite the searing heat, Sarah closed her hands against the miniature sun, expecting to be burnt. Instead it just tingled against her hands, warm, but not hot. Then, as she watched, delicate strands of light came out of it, entwining themselves around the Labyrinth and her body, and she felt a deep connection to everything, a deep power, as if she was a god, all of creation laid out around her, waiting for her to reach out and touch it. 

Infinite possibilities opened before her, and she imagined she could see the Labyrinth in all its glory, every corner, every atom, all at once. The beautiful lake encapsulated by the North East border, the orchard that lay beyond Jareth’s castle, the catacombs that hid underneath it, the different rooms, and tunnels, shafts and swamps, the walls shifting and moving seemingly at random. It was infinitely complex and beautiful in its way.

‘Come back to me, Sarah.’ came Jareth’s voice, so quiet it was almost a whisper, worry giving it a sharp edge.

Sarah opened her eyes. Jareth was standing above her, looking very anxious.

‘Oh, thank the Goddess,’ he said, bending forward to where she was laid on the floor. She gave him her hand and he pulled her to her feet.

‘What happened?’ she asked, realising she’d been laying on the floor.

Jareth looked at her with awe, leaning on his walking stick heavily as he searched her face for answers.

‘You were exceptional, Precious thing...’ he said, going to sit back in his chair, painfully placing his leg back on the pouffe. He refilled both their glasses. Sarah could smell the buttery warmth of the baking potatoes, realising she was very hungry.

‘I’m sensing a _but_ ’ she said, going to the oven to gauge how far off cooked they were.

Jareth was twisting the stem of the glass in his fingers, a faraway look in his eyes.

‘It’s more a case of this being beyond both my knowledge and my experience.’ he muttered, his voice almost a growl.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Sarah, as she pulled a frying pan from the cupboard, placed it on the hob, then seasoned the Angus beef with salt and pepper. She then rolled them in a mixture of olive oil and red wine vinegar.

‘When you made contact with your power, I could see it manifest. It radiated out of you, sparkled all over your skin, and it raised you clear off your chair...’ 

There was a sizzle, then another, as Sarah threw the steaks into the hot pan. Her mouth was open as what Jareth said filtered through to her. He didn't look happy. In fact he looked a little frightened.

‘Sarah, you were floating in mid air for a good twenty minutes. Even the raw power coming off of you in waves wasn’t enough to let me into whatever was happening to you.’ Jareth’s brow was knitted together as he took a long sip, trying not to look as shaken as he felt .

‘I _was_!?’ exclaimed Sarah, as she turned the steaks over. She was starting to get anxious that this wasn’t normal, and that she didn’t remember.

Jareth glanced her way, chewing on the inside of his mouth as he mulled over the event.

‘Eventually, you gently dropped to the floor, covered in perspiration, and that’s when I managed to get you back. While I can teach you to control your powers, even show you how to use them, Sarah, _this_ is beyond anything I’ve ever witnessed. We need to get to the Archives as soon as we can.’

Sarah used tongs to sear the fat on a steak as she listened.

‘And this worries you?’ she asked, as the fat sizzled and popped against the hot Teflon.

‘Not as such, but what I saw when you allowed me to share your vision, _that_ is beyond what I know about the power your position as the Labyrinthian affords you. What worries me is…’ Jareth paused for a moment. He didn’t want to worry her unnecessarily. But he needed her to understand. He continued, forcing the words out.

‘I don’t think Valkyr is just after me. She’s been alive for nearly twenty thousand of your years, she’s seen many things, heard many stories, and she was even around when my ancestor, the First Queen, disappeared in the Thousand Year War.’

Jareth sighed, and gritted his teeth, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose, a headache starting to throb at his temples. His suspicions were just getting more and more layered and worrisome, and the depth of Sarah’s power set off some very loud alarms, scratching at the edges of his memory as if he should know more than he did. 

‘I agree, it’s all very unnerving, but it does no good to fret when we essentially know nothing.’ mused Sarah, her brow knotting ‘Right now we can’t do much about Valkyr, or get to the Archives, but you _can_ tell me how you like your steak?’

‘Rare, please,’ he said, taking a swig of wine. A good meal would certainly help. He needed the energy to rebuild his magical reserves, and fuel the healing of his blasted burn. As it was, the wine was starting to go to his head.

‘Sure’ Sarah pulled one of the steaks from the pan onto the warmed plate next to the hob. She turned the other over again as she liked it medium rare. Then she opened the oven, pulling the skewered potatoes from it and onto the plates. She cut them all four ways, giving them a generous helping of butter each and topped them with cheese. As she worked, she pulled her own steak onto her plate before it over-cooked.

She brought both plates to the table, then grabbed another bottle of wine and the cutlery. She slipped into her seat, passing a knife and fork to Jareth, then helped herself to salad.

‘This smells so very good, Sarah, thank you.’ said Jareth, smiling, despite his mood. ‘Would you mind if I offer a blessing? It’s tradition to bless the evening meal with a prayer to the Goddess…’

‘Go ahead.’ said Sarah, with a smirk. The Fae had religion?

Jareth placed his now naked hands palm up and wide apart, raising his chin as he closed his eyes, and then chanted something beautiful in that sing-song language of his.

‘Thank you.’ he said, with a self conscious smile, grabbing the tongs for the salad.

Sarah dug into her meal with fervour, savouring the flavours, this simple meal being one of her favourites. Jareth did the same, filling their glasses when they were empty, commenting that he’d rarely had such a delicious meal, his goblin cooks having a tendency to send him up either near-raw or vastly over-cooked offerings.

Jareth made Sarah laugh hysterically with stories of his reign, like having to try to explain to his chef that serving a half cooked chicken, complete with feathers, apple crammed onto its beak, surrounded by burnt potatoes and corn, was not a kingly feast, and of the many occasions he’d woken up in the middle of the night to random pops and bangs, not knowing whether his subjects were having a party or were at war with each other, goblins flying through the air regardless.

They spent a good hour or so eating and drinking companionably, more ominous, serious topics forgotten, for the time being... 

Outside, the crescent moon rose against the inky darkness, its light outlining a figure that suddenly appeared at the base of the Faerie tree.  
The hooded figure, something metallic glinting under their cloak, looked around for a minute, before transforming into a large bird and flying away into the chill, dark night.


	13. Chapter 13

Presently, both Jareth and Sarah had eaten their fill, and Sarah suggested that they retire to the living room where they could be more comfortable.

It was at this point that Jareth remembered he’d only taken her partway through her second lesson in magic. 

Each clutching a glass of wine, Sarah bringing the bottle, they passed from the kitchen to the living room, Sarah pulling the thick curtains over the archway to keep the chill out.

‘Sarah, in all the excitement, I neglected to teach you the other half of control’ observed Jareth, as he stood in the centre of the room.

‘Oh,’ said Sarah, ‘do you mean controlling a manifestation?’

‘Yes, or an enchantment’ replied Jareth, swirling wine around in his glass. ‘Maybe lighting the fire would be a good start?’

He put down the glass and gestured at her to come and stand next to him, and she did, allowing him to turn her to face the fireplace, logs already piled up ready, though she’d forgotten to light them.

‘Alright,’ he breathed, his hands holding her shoulders, ‘now that you know what your magic feels like, direct it in your mind, see it creating fire over the logs. It will help if you point at it.’

Sarah took a breath and lifted her hand, and in her mind, she sent a tendril of magic into the fireplace. For a second, nothing happened, then warm yellow light shone brightly for a second, before flames burst forth from the firewood, making her gasp.

‘Well done.’ smiled Jareth, squeezing her shoulders.

‘Oh my Lord, I did it!’ squealed Sarah, looking at the fire then back to her hand in awe. She was full of excitement, practically jumping up and down in Jareth’s arms. ‘What else can I do?’

‘Right,’ he said, smiling, taking the glass and bottle from her, as she turned to look up at him. ‘well firstly, you should know that this is what we call Kinetic Magic. You’re allowing something to reach its kinetic potential. In this case, a combustible material bursts into flame.

‘Next is an enchantment. Where you layer a temporary reality over the top of true reality, using the original configuration as a basis.’ Jareth waved his hand at the room, realising ruefully that he was sounding like his father. 

‘Take this living area. It’s comfortable, but could be more so with a little imagination. Just for the night… Can you imagine something like that?’ he asked, softly

Sarah thought for a minute, then she smiled.

‘I think I have something perfect.’ she said, smiling, biting her lip as she imagined it.

‘Alright, close your eyes and hold the idea in your mind, in as much detail as you can,’ said Jareth, looking down at her ‘then, I want you to reach out with your power and try to place all of those elements in the existing space. Don’t worry about what’s already here, it will all be right here when the enchantment ends...’

Sarah put all her concentration into following the directions Jareth was giving her, and in her mind's eye, she transformed her living room into a Moroccan palace.

‘Open your eyes, Sarah’ said Jareth.

She opened her eyes, and brought her hands to her mouth in shock. The room was the same size and shape, the roaring fire still burning in the grate, but her furnishings had disappeared. Instead there were rugs and cushions and blankets lining a depressed area in the centre of the room, under multicolored swathes of fabric that were draped over the space, fairy lights and lanterns threaded through them, bathing the room in soft, warm light. A low table covered in sweet treats, dates, fruit, cheese, a wine carafe with matching goblets and buttered popcorn was sat to one side.

‘It’s just the way I imagined’ she gasped, walking down into the pit and throwing herself onto the pile of cushions, giggling. ‘Oh, it’s so comfortable’ she smiled, turning over and looking up at Jareth, who was standing watching her, a strange, melancholy expression on his face.

‘Come, I’ll help you.’ she said, getting up and holding out her hands for him. He reached out for her, and she clasped his left hand with both of hers, helping him down the shallow steps and into the nest of cushions, taking some of his weight as he went to kneel on them, moving a cushion under his right leg, and making sure he was comfortable. She then got comfortable on his left, and passed him a goblet of wine from the table.

‘Aaah, I love it.’ she sighed, breathing in the scents of sandalwood and ginger that came from some invisible incense somewhere, and took a sip of the fruity wine. 

‘Don’t you like it?’ she asked Jareth, who wasn’t looking too happy.

‘It’s wonderful, Precious thing.’ he said, smiling, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘I just can’t shake this ominous feeling I have, the more you come into our power. The next lesson is to manifest something from nothing, like you did with the clothes. But I think we’ll save that until tomorrow.’

Sarah propped herself on one arm, tracing circles around the top of her goblet as she looked down into Jareth’s eyes.

‘This Valkyr really got under your skin, huh?’ she said, quietly, watching emotion flit across his beautiful face.

‘Yes, quite _literally_ , my love.’ said Jareth, the venom in his voice apparent. ‘What I don’t understand is how she could replace you at all. I’ve never known that to happen… She would need to know you intimately to even attempt such a thing. There is a legend that an ancient Fae Lord had such a deep connection with a mortal, that it meant they could switch places, in or outside of the dreamscape, and no-one would suspect. He even cast a very complex spell that split his own magic with his twin. You mentioned it when you were doing your book reading the other day.’

‘Aah, you mean the Legend of Fae-touched twins?’ said Sarah. Then something occurred to her. ‘So that hot guy in the front row... that _was_ you, wasn’t it?’

Jareth looked sheepish, but smirked up at her.

‘Well, I wanted to make sure you would be… receptive... before I revealed myself to you. That’s all’ he said, lifting his glass to his lips.

‘You sly thing...’ she frowned, incredulous.

‘You thought I… he... was hot?’ he asked, practically into his glass, raising an eyebrow.

‘Yeah, like you don’t think you’re the sexiest creature alive.’ she said, giving him a little punch.

He almost choked with laughter, then promptly spilt wine all over himself.

‘Oh!’ he exclaimed, looking crestfallen, ‘and it was such a nice shirt…’

‘Allow me’ she said, and clicked her fingers. The wine stain vanished. Then so did the shirt, and the waistcoat. His medallion appeared on the table next to him.

‘Over compensated a little there, Precious’ he said, clicking his tongue, about to reach out for it, but when he looked up into her eyes, he realised that it was completely deliberate.

She smirked and bent forward, running her tongue over his left nipple, just above the tattoo of the owl. He tasted delicious, like toffee apples and salted caramel.

Jareth groaned and closed his eyes, surrendering himself to the little licks and kisses that Sarah was laying over his left pectoral. It sent tendrils of pleasure through him, hot desire pooling in his groin as blood descended south.

Sarah reached over to the table next to Jareth, placing her glass next to the medallion, then, bringing her arm back, she traced the outline of his other nipple with a finger, then started tracing patterns over his skin, slowly going lower and lower, around his belly button, her mouth working its way up his chest, leaving bites and kisses in its wake, finding his collar bone. Her left hand was skimming the waist of his silky Pajama bottoms, just as her lips pressed against his clavicle, leaving kisses slowly along his collar bone. 

Watching as he lay back, his breath coming in short rasps, Sarah, moved her hand lower, tracing the outline of the erection that was now straining against the black silk.

As her mouth started to move along the taut skin of his throat, nibbling and kissing, she ran her finger up the length of his hard shaft, right up to the tip, feeling a bead of moisture reward her effort. Jareth felt her smile against his jaw as she slipped her hand beneath the fabric, running her finger over the silken skin of his penis, and that was when he snapped.

In one smooth motion, Jareth pulled himself up, one arm threading around Sarah, the other coming up to hold her face, as he turned toward her, his mouth finding hers, his body forcing her onto her back, ignoring the painful objection from his right leg. 

Sarah fell back against the cushions, her arms twisting around Jareth as she kissed him back with as much passion, attempting to wriggle out of her clothes as his hands pulled at them, releasing her from her loose sweater, bra and leisure wear.

She pushed cushions aside, as his mouth travelled downward, kissing her jawline, then down to her clavicle, then making her gasp as he licked and sucked on each nipple in turn. She moaned in pleasure, digging her nails into the cushions as she felt her panties being pulled away, then a rush of cool air until she felt his tongue invade her folds. She cried out, half gasping, half moaning, as his tongue explored her, seeking out her hard little ball of nerves, then diving inside of her to send exquisite shocks of pleasure through her. 

Sarah cried out over and over, her hands wrapped in his hair as Jareth licked and sucked at her clitoris. She had just enough presence of mind to stop him before she climaxed.

‘I want you, _now._ ’ she growled, pulling herself away as he shuffled forward and out of his pajama bottoms, releasing his rock hard appendage, the tip slick with moisture.

‘What m’lady wants…’ murmured Jareth, positioning himself so he could slide into her with ease, as she raised her legs to allow him entry.

As he slid into her bit by bit, allowing her to unfold around him, he pressed his body against her, and she rose up to meet him, kissing and biting any part of him she could reach, her nails digging into his thighs and butt as she felt him push against her. He moaned as he lay kisses down her throat, across her chest, up her jaw, and on her lips, looking into her eyes as that final inch of him was encapsulated by her warm folds. They both groaned loudly as the pleasure spasmed through them.

Sarah wrapped her legs around Jareth, hearing him grunt as he drove through the pain, ramping up the speed, moving against her faster and faster. Their respective breaths coming in a rhythmic pant, Jareth buried his face in her neck again, taking in her sweet coconut and floral scent, as he felt the pressure build within him, the pain in his leg now a dull ache against it.

Sarah called out as she hit the wall, pressing against Jareth, as he ground his hips against her, gritting his teeth as he felt the edge come nearer. Then Sarah cried out in ecstacy, his name screamed over and over as her climax exploded through her, making her toes curl, and to his shock, she started to glow in a faint yellow light, her eyes fluttering, just as his orgasm took hold, and he pressed his face against her throat as the pleasure rocked through him, knowing he glowed blue when he climaxed, tears falling from his eyes as he cried, some intense emotion suddenly crashing through him too.

Sarah’s arms wrapped around him as he sobbed, her voice soothing, holding him as he laid against her, his weight pinning her down, his body still pumping his seed into the woman he very desperately loved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After some time, Jareth disengaged, pulling himself back over to Sarah’s right, his heartbeat just starting to slow, his face wet with tears, and his right leg cramping nastily. He hissed in pain, propping himself up, raising the leg again, and lifting the heavy medallion back around his neck.

He looked over to Sarah, who was still on her back, a hand absently stroking her chest. She was staring straight ahead, panting slightly, seemingly mesmerised by the collection of lanterns and lights decorating the apex above her, her brow knotted slightly.

He marvelled at her beauty, from her long dark hair, tossed randomly over the cushions, to her sparkling green eyes, her luscious red mouth, and the perfect sun-kissed skin that ran, unblemished, from her head all the way down to her scarlet painted toes, broken only by a few freckles, her belly button, a shaped mound of black hair over her mons pubis, and the two dark pink nipples that crowned her proud, shapely breasts.

‘Sarah?’ he said, his hand finding hers. She didn’t respond, instead she lowered her eyes and bit her lip. Jareth raised her fingers to his lips as he turned towards her, not knowing what to say.

‘We did it.’ she said, her voice low. She pulled herself up onto her elbows, and turned toward him, her gaze dragging along his taut legs, up over his hips where his manhood lay, spent and twitching, and up his torso until she got to his face.

‘I mean, we really did it.’ she said, searching his eyes, as if such a thing was somehow unbelievable.

‘We did.’ he said, giving her hand a squeeze. He laid back against the cushions, closing his eyes and letting out a deep, heavy sigh.

‘I’m sorry…’ she muttered.

Jareth opened his eyes and looked at her, confused.

‘What for?’ he said, then it dawned on him that in his post coital contentment, he’d failed to acknowledge that he’d cried into her hair as he’d hit his long awaited release. He still wasn’t sure why.

‘Well, I knew you weren’t quite up to it, but it just seemed like it was time that we… um... consummated our relationship.’ she said, looking a little awkward. She turned her face away from him.

Jareth looked bemused for a long moment. Then, he burst out laughing. He couldn’t help himself. Was she seriously thinking that he had not been fully into it? He’d been waiting for this for so long, and it completely surpassed his expectations. Even their tryst in the dreamscape hadn’t come close to the real thing.

‘Oh, that’s brilliant...’ he chuckled, stroking his face, unable to wipe the grin from it.

Sarah was looking as if she wanted to both cry and slap him silly, so he reached out and pulled her to him, threading his fingers through hers as she looked into his eyes, confusion and insecurity etched onto her face. She could hear his laughter as a deep rumble through his chest as she snuggled against him, his left arm holding her, his hand skimming the soft skin above her bottom. He kissed the top of her head, tenderly.

‘Sarah,' he said softly, 'my whole body could be near burnt to a crisp, and I still don’t think I would have the force of will to deny making love to you, if you wanted me. I know you weren’t really there, but I was very serious when I gave myself to you, body, mind and soul. Forever.’

Jareth tilted Sarah’s face up so that he could look into her eyes.

‘There isn’t a universe I could imagine, where I wouldn’t want you, Sarah, where I wouldn't take any small offering you were kind enough to bestow on me. Where I wouldn’t immediately be ready for you at any given moment. I said I would be your slave, and here I am. Just knowing that you want me is all my dreams come true, my Precious Thing…’

Jareth bent forward so that he could press a tender kiss to her lips, as Sarah pulled herself up to meet him. A tear slid down her face, knowing that he’d finally declared himself. After waiting for so very long, she felt loved. And it was so very worth the wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, hope you're enjoying the story. Bit of a fluffy chapter for you. Got to let your characters have some down time before things start to go south... 
> 
> As always, thanks for the Kudos and feedback. Stay safe - MRYGM


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, sorry this update is a little late, I've been busy working on both my fics, the stories just pouring from me, and I even started a new OF, but hopefully it was worth the wait.
> 
> Thank you so much for the Kudos! And the Comments are what I live for. Thank you all for your kind words, and I'm really loving the support you have for this story. 
> 
> Without further ado, Enjoy...

Weak November sunlight trickled over Sarah’s eyelids, as it found its way through a gap in the curtains. 

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes, then regretted it, a slight hangover greeting her. She turned to look at her alarm clock, but then realised that she wasn’t in bed. She groaned, the night before coming back to her in disconnected pieces, and she turned her head toward the light, to see that it filtered through a mane of blonde, spiky hair.

Jareth was fast asleep on his belly, laying spread out, looking almost leonine, his tight, naked bottom stuck up in the air. His right arm was wrapped possessively around her again, and if she was honest, it felt damn good. She snuggled closer to him.

Sarah flexed her fingers, then spent a minute staring at the ring Jareth had given her the day before. _Was it really just yesterday?_ It felt as if so much had happened since then. 

The diamond was currently a deep, emerald green, sparkling in the light that filtered through from the morning. As she watched, it turned a deep, dark obsidian and, suddenly, she stood at a window, looking over the Labyrinth, the wind rushing through her hair. 

A Raven was flying toward her, and she put her arm out, the bird alighting on her red-gloved hand. She stroked the bird’s glossy throat as she turned toward a group of armoured women, _Valkyrie_ , she realised, and a voice that was hers, but not, rang out across the red room.

‘Did you find the Huntsman?’ she enquired, silkily.

‘We did, Majesty.’ said the one who seemed to be in command. She snapped her fingers and two Valkyrie entered, leading a cloaked figure at spearpoint.

Sarah felt her mouth smile, as the man was shoved forward, reluctantly kneeling at her feet, his head bowed.

‘Why do you summon me, Goblin Queen?’ came a deep, raspy voice.

Sarah’s heart did a backflip at the title. So Jareth’s instincts were correct?

‘My husband is hiding in the Above, with the Labyrinthian.’ said her mouth, without humour. ‘Find them, Huntsman, bring them to me, alive, and I will restore you and your family to your lands and titles.’

The man looked up at her, his cold blue eyes shining with interest, a twisted smile on a face that was once beautiful, but was now marred by pits and scars. Hundreds of years of living off the land, of surviving where most would never think to roam, had given him a gaunt, feral look.

‘And if I refuse?’ he rasped.

‘The next time you fly, it will be as ash on a breeze...’

He appeared to consider her words for a moment.

‘Then it appears we have a deal, _your Majesty...’_

Sarah snapped back to reality with a shudder, the ring having gone back to its usual serene clarity. 

_What just happened?_

Somewhere in her house a clock chimed 8am. She raised herself up, noting that the Moroccan enchantment was starting to fade at the edges, as if losing its cohesion. She moved Jareth’s arm as she pulled herself up, stroking a finger over the alabaster skin on his back. He mumbled, throwing an arm around a cushion, but didn’t wake up.

Not knowing what else to do with herself, Sarah went to get a shower, attempting to process the last twenty four hours or so. As the hot water ran over her skin, she contemplated the ramifications of her being betrothed to a King, from another dimension, who was tricked into marriage by an evil Fae Queen, who now appeared to know where he had taken refuge. Even if they managed to defeat her, what then? 

As much as she loved Jareth, and she knew now that she really did, Sarah wasn’t sure whether she wanted to leave her very comfortable life behind. She had a loving family, a beautiful house, a very fast car, and enough money that she would never need to work again.

Then there was the issue of her magic. She could feel it pulling at her insides, changing her on some subtle level, always ready to be of service for whatever she needed. It was a heady feeling, and Jareth had said she was now no longer mortal. Did that mean that there was just one road ahead of her now?

‘Mind if I join you?’ came Jareth’s voice, shattering her reverie.

She turned to see him leaning in the doorway, the exact smug look on his face that she’d imagined him having, except he was nude, and sporting an impressive hard-on. His leg also looked as if it was healing well, the burn area now just skimming the top of his knee down to mid calf. The bruises across his ribs were only just visible as yellowish blemishes to his porcelain skin.

‘If you like’ she said, a frisson of energy coursing through her, her doubts quelled for the moment. The man was shameless, which was a complete turn on. She took a deep breath and looked away as Jareth entered the shower behind her, stepping into the slight depression in the tiles, using the rail so he didn’t slip.

Sarah felt his arms wrap around her, pulling her against him, his face rubbing against hers, the stubble on his chin brushing against the sensitive skin of her neck and shoulder. His hands curved around her hips, hugging her to him, his hardness pressing into her back. She exhaled sharply, feeling the desire fill her again.

‘Good morning, my love.’ Jareth breathed into her ear, kissing her neck by way of greeting. She closed her eyes, enjoying his closeness, goosebumps running away across her skin at his touch. She let the water pour over her, before turning in his arms.

‘Morning...’ she purred, looking up into his face, putting her arms around his neck, noting how the hot water pouring down him was pasting his hair to his head, the honey and deep, golden tones much more noticeable.

He bent slightly to meet her, his lips closing against hers in a deep kiss, full of need and promise, pulling her as close as he could, his hands squeezing her butt, gently. 

After a few minutes, Sarah reluctantly pulled away, and Jareth ran his hands through his wet hair, pulling it back from his face, revealing his pointed eyebrows and the glittering Fae markings that framed them. His resemblance to her favourite singer was even more marked, and made him all the more attractive, his honey blonde tresses reaching halfway down his back.

‘Is something wrong?’ he asked, watching a curious expression enter her eyes, as he stretched behind her for what he referred to as ‘hair tonic’. 

She reached up and ran a hand down his face to his chin, leaning in to place a kiss on his lips before pulling away, her green eyes studying him.

‘You just look a little _different_ like this’ she said, still holding his chin. ‘Younger, and a little less… _frightening'_ she grinned, his deep, throaty chuckle rewarding her joke.

‘Also, I didn’t know that Fae grew beards?’

She ran her fingers against the stubble on his face. Jareth smiled his pointy smile and dipped forward to kiss her again, before twisting around to lean against the back of the shower, his leg tired. He washed his hair as he spoke.

‘We _can_ grow them, though most prefer not to. This is a symptom of being in the Aboveground for an extended period. It starts to grow on its own as a survival mechanism, a way of blending in. My markings will start to fade too, eventually.’

He didn’t look very happy about it, his mismatched eyes staring sadly at Sarah. He dipped forward to rinse his hair, then began rubbing conditioner into the ends of it, moodily. Sarah walked into the torrent of water, rinsing off the conditioning mask she’d been applying when he’d interrupted her.

‘You missing home?’ she asked, leaning against the other wall, the hot water hitting her from her waist downward.

Jareth looked pensive, appearing very much like a younger Bowie, his hair pulled back behind his slightly pointed ears, his lips set in a hard line.

‘Yes, and no.’ he said, presently, still staring forward. ‘Spending this time with you is a dream come true, and a much needed break from what has been a very long, lonely and, mostly, uneventful rule. Knowing that we’re going to be together makes me very, very happy. But I want my magic back, Sarah. I want my Kingdom back. And, mostly, I want the Labyrinth and my subjects to be safe again.’

Sarah saw the emotion that he’d shown the night before flutter across his face, and he looked away, attempting to regain control... But it was all too much, and he slid halfway down the wall, his head in his hands, a sound of pain escaping his lips. She moved to his side, putting her arms around him, and he leant into her, water pouring down over them.

‘Hush now, it’s going to be okay’ she crooned as he sobbed, bitterly. After a minute or so, he’d pulled himself together, his hands on her shoulders, placing his face under the water to wash away the tears, and the conditioner. Sarah let him go, realising he needed a few moments to himself.

Sarah stepped out of the shower, pulling a towel around herself. She’d wanted to tell him about her vision, but thought better of it. It would keep.

‘Hey, I meant to tell you, I have some good news’ she said, turning toward him. ‘Toby’s plane lands at 2pm. You can come with me to pick him up. That’ll be fun, huh?’

Just at that moment, Sarah heard her name being called. In a flash she had retrieved a dressing gown and was pulling it around her, then walked into the study.

There in the mirror’s reflection, stood Hoggle, Sir Didymus, and Ludo.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘Missed Sawah!’ yelled Ludo, as Sarah came into view of the mirror, nearly squashing Sir Didymus and Hoggle as he tried to hug the ancient mirror they’d managed to wrest from the hands of the people who live in the Junk City.

‘There you are, M’lady!’ called Sir Didymus, taking his cap off and bowing his head, while simultaneously trying to push Ludo off him. ‘Quiet, Ambrosius!’ he commanded his steed, who was barking happily at the mirror.

‘Hi, guys!’ grinned Sarah, wrapping a towel around her hair. She bent toward the mirror, wishing she could hug them. ‘It’s so good to see you! How is everything? I tried to get in touch a few days ago...’

‘We struggled to find a mirror in the Kingdom that hadn’t been smashed by sorcery!’ exclaimed Sir Didymus, just as Hoggle spoke too.

‘We have terrible news, Sarah...’ muttered Hoggle, looking anxious, wringing his hands.

‘Guys, please, one at a time.’ said Sarah, sitting in the chair at the old vanity. ‘You know, this would be easier if I just summon you here…’

‘No, Sarah, the Labyrinth is locked down, you cannot summon them...’ came a deep, throaty voice. ‘Doing so would break the seals I nearly gave my life to create.’ 

Jareth chose that moment to limp into the room, a towel wrapped around his hips, his golden hair already attempting to defy gravity, his medallion shining on his chest. He looked much less vulnerable than he had just minutes before, his normal air of regal haughtiness apparently restored.

‘Majesty!’ cried Sir Didymus, bowing low to his king. ‘I am much relieved to see that you survived your brush with the Interlopers!’

Ambrosius ran behind Ludo, apparently terrified, and Hoggle was stunned to silence, though gave Jareth a disapproving stare, looking between him and Sarah suspiciously. Ludo sat down heavily on the floor, wondering when dinner would be.

‘I’m quite well, thank you, Sir Didymus.’ said Jareth, sitting on the chair where Sarah had moved to give him space. He placed an arm around her waist, possessively, giving Hoggle a self satisfied smirk. ‘The Labyrinthian has done such a fine job nursing me back to health, we are hoping to be back with you in the next few days.’

_We?_ Thought Sarah, her brow creasing as she looked at Jareth. They really did need to talk this through.

‘Chef could certainly do with some tips from his future mistress.’ continued Jareth, grinning at his own joke. He kissed Sarah’s cheek and pulled her closer. She looked away, not knowing what to think. It was one thing when it was just the two of them in her house, getting to know each other properly, but was quite something else when she was being referred to as anyone’s future ruler.

‘A wedding?’ exclaimed Sir Didymus, looking positively over the moon. ‘Oh, Bravo!’ 

‘Oh no’ grumbled Hoggle, looking upset at the thought, though he knew this day would come. As Sarah had grown, her interest in the Underground, especially the Goblin King, had grown with her, and Hoggle knew that Jareth’s interest in her only intensified post her victory. 

His Majesty never spoke of it outright, but the dwarf-goblin would find the king aimlessly wandering the Labyrinth sometimes, as if lost in memory, or find him in the gardens composing the sweetest, saddest music he’d ever heard. As much as Hoggle hated Jareth, Sarah did seem to be good for him. Softened his cruel, selfish nature somewhat. 

And when he really thought about it, it would be wonderful to get to see her every day. But still, he avoided the Goblin King’s eyes, who intimidated him, even through the mirror.

‘Sawah come home?’ growled Ludo, above the din of Ambrosius doing a happy lap of the three friends.

‘It appears that way.’ she said, mostly to herself. Jareth seemed to stiffen at her words.

‘What news from the front?’ enquired Jareth, sharply, getting straight back to the point. Ambrosius cowered in Ludo’s lap at the edge in the King’s voice..

‘Well, sire, Sprocket has informed us that the Interloper is, well…’ Sir Didymus paused, looking sideways at Hoggle, who looked thoroughly uncomfortable.

‘Out with it.’ commanded Jareth.

‘Well, um, Sprocket said that the Ice Queen...’ relayed Sir Didymus, finding his courage, ‘that she bears the most striking resemblance to our Lady Sarah. We went to the Keeper of the Archive, and he said that it’s possible that they are fabled Faerie-Twins, thought to be the stuff of myth.’

Jareth looked shocked for a moment, glancing at Sarah, who looked surprised, but also as if she somehow suspected as much. She was avoiding his eye. He held her tighter, more pieces of the puzzle slotting into place. They would pick this up when they didn’t have an audience.

‘Captain, I want you to ask the Keeper of the Archive to gather as much material as he can concerning the Fae-Twin legends, I expect to have it waiting for us when we arrive.’ Jareth ordered, in his most commanding tone, his grip on Sarah’s waist so strong it was almost painful. 

‘Please, ask him to include any material surrounding the Labyrinthian legends too, including the original plans of the Labyrinth, if they even exist still. Any accounts from when it was built or from the First Queen would be useful.

‘Secondly, and let me make myself very clear, Captain, _do not_ allow my steward anywhere near that woman, do you understand me? It’s far too dangerous. If Valkyr suspects her, and follows her, it’s all over.’ He paused for a moment, to allow his words to sink in, before continuing in a lighter tone. ‘How go plans for the counter attack?’

Sarah was practically sitting on his lap at this point, her arm across his shoulders, looking into his face as he commanded his subjects. Leadership suited him, it was part of what made the Goblin King so damned sexy, and kind of terrifying too. He was sitting up very straight, very regal, his past worries fading as he played the role he was born to.

‘Of course, Sire, and well enough’ quipped Sir Didymus, ‘The War Room is set up, ready for you. I drafted my brothers, His Highness, Sir Hoggle, Prince of the Land of Stench, as my first Lieutenant, and Ludo of the Rock Callers as my second. Hoggle is liaising with the Captains of the Goblin Legions, briefing them on our plans, and Sprocket and I have commissioned many new traps, contraptions and war machines to be built, for use both inside and out of the Labyrinth. We have armour and weapons being forged as we speak, your Goblin army encamped in small groups across the Kingdom, sire, avoiding the flying patrols. Most of the creatures that live within the Labyrinth are contributing to the War effort anyway they can, even the Mer, with the notable exception of the people of Junk City.’ He shook his tiny fist as he said it.

‘In addition, Ludo has assured us as many Rock Callers as he can summon to add to our ranks.’

‘Rocks friends, help defend home.’ said Ludo, sternly. ‘My people come too.’

‘Excellent, Sir Didymus, everybody!’ said Jareth, baring his teeth in a wide, genuine smile. Impressed, despite himself. It faded as he thought about what lay ahead, and he leaned a little closer to Sarah, drawing strength from her presence. ‘And what intelligence have you gathered on Valkyr and her Valkyrie?’

The fox terrier cleared his throat.

‘Valkyr generally stays in the red glass palace she has built on top of the ruins of the castle, sire’ he answered, shuddering slightly, clearly unhappy about being the bearer of bad news. Jareth seemed to deflate at this, though he’d watched the castle fall, magically sending all of his important belongings to his vault in the catacombs. Sarah squeezed his shoulder to comfort him and he leaned into her a little more.

‘She has a raven familiar who flies over the Labyrinth, day and night,’ continued the diminutive knight, ‘Everyone stays out of sight as much as possible, lest the blaguard spot us. The Valkyrie patrol the perimeter, squadrons flying overhead at irregular intervals. They caught a small band of hobgoblins attempting to burn down the temporary barracks that are now set up atop the ashes of the Goblin City. They were tortured and killed, their bodies burnt on a pyre on what was once the city’s market square…’

Sir Didymus put his cap to his chest, his head bent in sorrow for his fallen comrades.

Jareth looked very upset. He ran a finger over his mouth, then his eyes flicked back to the mirror, his gaze like steel.

‘Brave, but rash.’ he replied, his voice full of sorrow and anger. ‘Their sacrifice will be honoured, Sir Didymus. Make it known that no-one is to leave the safety of the Labyrinth, without my express permission. Anything you need, I will see to it from the Above.’ 

‘Of course, Sire.’ replied Sir Didymus, bowing low. ‘I will have a list drawn up by nightfall.’

‘Something else,’ came Hoggle’s gruff voice, his arms clasped behind his back. ‘They broughts someone into the city yesterday. Someone who dark magic seems to clings to.’

‘The Huntsman.’ 

The response came from Sarah, who was idly fiddling with her ring. She looked up to see everyone looking distinctly overwrought.

Jareth turned to her, worry and shock etched into his features. His fingers dug painfully into her thigh. Hoggle was shaking his head in dismay, Sir Didymus had gasped, and Ludo was making a strangled noise, hugging Ambrosius to him.

Sarah wriggled in the ensuing silence, lacing her fingers with Jareth’s to stop them from hurting her. He let them go.

‘No...’ he breathed after a long moment, a gruff, fearful edge to his voice. ‘How could you _possibly_ know that?’

He was looking at her with these wide, stormy eyes, his mouth open in his shock, barely hiding those fang-like teeth of his. She was thoroughly unnerved now, her eyes moving from one worried face to the next. Her voice took on a troubled edge as she explained herself.

‘I had a.... vision, this morning... The ring turned black, and I was in someone else’s skin. Valkyr’s skin, to be exact. I saw her threaten a man they called ‘the Huntsman’ into coming after us.’ she felt strange that everyone was staring at her, like she’d done something wrong.

‘I was going to tell you, but I couldn’t quite believe it myself, not yet.’ Sarah looked into his eyes, hers pleading with him to understand.

Jareth raised a hand to his face, stroking his mouth and chin in disbelief, absently scratching at the thin layer of blonde stubble he wished he could just magic away, as he usually would.

‘The _Huntsman…_ ’ he muttered, his eyes taking on a far away look. ‘Now there’s a moniker I hoped I’d never hear again. It appears I’ll have to add Combat Magic to your lessons, much sooner than I was expecting, my love.’ His hand returned to her waist, protective. He placed a light kiss on the shoulder closest to him, then turned toward the mirror again, the concern in his face evident to his subjects.

‘We have much to prepare, Sir Didymus.’ he said, briskly. ‘Expect me at first light the day after tomorrow. Have Prince Hogbog here deliver the list via mirror this evening, no later.’

_‘Hoggle’_ muttered Hoggle to no-one.

‘Of course, Majesty. I will have everything in order and ready for your arrival.’ answered Sir Didymus, saluting the King with a low bow.

‘Best of luck, all of you...’ said the Goblin King with a heavy heart. Sarah waved at her friends, who waved back furiously as the image started to fade.

‘And to you, Sire, M’lady’ said the fox terrier.

‘Goodbye, everyone, I love you all!’ called Sarah, tears in her eyes.

‘Bye, Sarah! Stay safe.’ called Hoggle.

‘Sawaaah’ cried Ludo.

And then her friends were gone, the mirror returning to its former, innocuous reflection.

Jareth had his head in his hand, as Sarah pulled herself from him. He let her go with just the slightest pressure of his arm around her, the faintest squeeze of her bottom. He looked up at her, just for a second. There was worry and fear and pain, and a fierce, steely resolve burning behind those intense blue eyes.

‘I think it’s time for tea’ she said, placing a kiss on his forehead, then she disappeared out of the door, leaving Jareth to contemplate the coming war, alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a bit of nudity (naked Sarah *sigh*, naked Jareth *uWu*), but we're starting to go a bit more deeply into the worldbuilding here, and the revelation of Valkyr and Sarah's connection (you guessed it, I'm sure). Fae-Twins, also known as Faerie-Twins and Fate-Touched Twins. How magic works in this particular universe gets infinitely more complex when you add the Twins to the mix. Even Valkyr has no real idea what that means in a wider sense, twins being so very rare to start with, and Fae twins so few and far between that they're considered a myth.
> 
> There's still some stuff that needs to happen before our favourite couple head back Underground, but we're on our way there, and boy is it fun to write! I really wanted to show how much of an effect this is having on Jareth here, too, and how this all just got very real for Sarah. And it's always good to catch up with how our three Undergrounders are getting on, and how they're coping with the siege. 
> 
> And just as an aside, I think Jareth might regret the words he said in jest to Hoggle, that fateful day. What's said is said after all... Hoggle has his own mini 'castle' on the bog. A bottle of Stench Neutralizing Elixir just appears on Hoggle's night stand once a month. No idea where that could come from... ;)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I will hopefully have another update for you within the week. Stay safe my Lovelies - MRYGM


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, hope you are all well, another update for you. This chapter has taken a bit of editing, so I do hope you like it.
> 
> Thank you all for the Kudos and especially the comments! I'm so humbled by the support this story has received and I always love reading your feedback. Keep it coming! It's always good to know that you're enjoying it and what you think to it. <3 <3 <3
> 
> So without further ado, enjoy, and as always, stay safe - MRYGM

The clock struck nine am, just as the kettle clicked off, its chimes echoing through the quiet house. Sarah poured boiling water into the pot, then covered it over with a tea cozy to steep.

Pensively, she pulled eggs and milk from the fridge, then dug in the cupboard for flour. She’d planned on making a full English breakfast, but with Toby only several hours away from landing, and feeling a little anxious, she opted for pancakes instead.

In silence, she made the batter, heating a pan on the hob with some butter. Once it was ready she put two plates on the side and started to make their breakfast.

Presently, the sound of the clock ticking began to grate against her nerves, so Sarah went across to her HiFi System to choose a CD, pulling _Hunky Dory_ from the shelf. She stuck it in the player, then pressed ‘Shuffle’.

She sighed as the piano intro of one of her favourite songs sounded. Pouring another fat spoonful of batter onto the red hot frying pan, she started to sing along:

‘...But the film is a saddening bore... for she’s lived it ten times or more! She could spit in the eyes of fools... as they asked her to focus on…’

The batter sizzled against the hot Teflon as Sarah started to belt out the chorus in time with the music:

‘... _Sai_ lors fighting in the dance hall. Oh man! Look at those cavemen go… It’s the freakiest show! Take a look at the _law_ man, beating up the wrong guy! Oh man, wonder if he’ll ever know? He’s in the best selling show…! Is there life on Mars…?’

She was brandishing the spatula as a makeshift microphone, before using it to flip the pancake onto a stack and add some more batter. 

A sound interrupted her, and she looked up to see Jareth limp through the archway and into the kitchen, wearing jeans and a white shirt that he was buttoning at the cuffs, his medallion shining against his chest, just visible where his shirt was unbuttoned.

‘You seem to be enjoying yourself.’ he observed, smiling across at her, amused at her antics. ‘Interesting music. Though I believe the answer to the question is no, there is no longer life on Mars, however much one may _wish_ to escape there…’

Jareth sat down heavily, in his customary seat, and pulled on his boots.

‘Mmmm, it’s one of my favourites.’ replied Sarah, flushing slightly, flipping yet another pancake onto a stack, then pouring one more into the pan. ‘Interesting take on the meaning though. You okay?’

Jareth looked across at her while he was bent over, easing his boot on to his right foot.

‘Not really.’ was all he said, grimacing as he forced his foot into the tight boot.

‘You know, I can help you dress until you’re healed and your magic returns…?’

Sarah pursed her lips, glancing across at him, as she moved the pan from the heat, and picked up the tray with the tea on it, bringing it across to the dining table.

Jareth took hold of her hand, lacing his fingers with hers, then kissed the palm.

‘Thank you for the offer, my love, but I feel better doing these kinds of things for myself. Besides, you’re doing more than enough as it is. I’m eternally grateful to you.’

He held the hand against his cheek, pressing his face into it, before giving it back.

‘It’s my pleasure.’ Sarah frowned slightly, knowing that Jareth was suffering, her heart hurting for him. She went to get the pancakes, knobs of butter already melting in the middle of the stacks, the maple syrup sitting ready on the tea tray.

She poured them both cups of tea, eyeing Jareth, who seemed quieter than usual. _Changes_ started to play in the background.

‘I hope this is enough for you…’ she said, unsure of his appetite, as she pulled the syrup across and dumped a generous portion on top of her stack. She’d given him six to her three, knowing it was enough to fill her.

‘I’m not especially hungry this morning, Precious, but it does smell divine. I’m sure this will be more than adequate.’ The corners of his mouth turned up in a reassuring grin as he poured syrup on top and used his knife and fork to cut a wedge from the stack, placing half into his mouth.

‘Mmmm,’ he said as he swallowed, ‘Tastes divine too.’

Sarah smiled.

‘Thanks.’ she jabbed a pancake with her fork. ‘I know what you mean, though, I’m not too hungry either. But, we do have a long journey ahead of us later. It will take at least two hours to get to Heathrow.’

‘Aah yes, I’m eager to see young Tobias. I’m not too familiar with aircraft, but I believe they’re generally uncomfortable to travel in.’ mused Jareth, swallowing down a mouthful of tea and pancake. ‘I’m surprised you want to use your vehicle though, now that you can use your Magic?’

‘Flying can get uncomfortable when it’s such a long journey,’ answered, Sarah, sipping her tea. ‘But, there’s no other way really. Not for us mere mortals. And as for using magic, it’s more a case of I don’t know anywhere in Heathrow we could just appear, without being noticed. Besides I love to drive, and Toby can’t wait to see the car. It might be the last time I get to use it…’ 

She trailed off, not wanting to follow that particular line of thought. Then something occurred to her. Her eyes flicked to his face. He was not going to be happy...

‘Jareth, I can’t help you fight this war,’ she said, abruptly. _Anxiously._ ‘I need to take care of Toby. It’s not like I’ll be all that much good in a fight, anyway.’

She looked away from him, biting her lip. _Was she disappointed?_

Jareth always loved it when Sarah used his name, his betrothed being the only person (he liked) who was allowed to refer to him by anything other than his title. This time though, he blanched at the way she said it. It had a sharp, commanding edge to it that he didn’t care for.

‘You might not have a _choice_ , Sarah.’ he remarked, gruffly, levelling a haughty stare at her. ‘In which case you’ll have to bring the boy with us, or drop him back in his homeland. I’ll teach you how to scry so you can avoid being seen... Though you really _should_ tell your parents what _our_ plans are. I _assume_ you want them to attend the ceremony?’

Jareth’s jaw was set rigid, even as he ate. He was starting to panic that Sarah was changing her mind, that the reality of their situation was eclipsing her affection for him. He couldn’t say he blamed her. He let out a sad sigh. _As the world falls down…_

‘I get that,’ she replied, quietly, soothed by the opening lines of _Oh! You Pretty Things_ , ‘I guess that’s a bridge we will cross when we get there. And yes, I want them to be there. Though I’m not sure that even years of boring them with stories about the Underground, and it’s enigmatic Goblin King, will _quite_ prepare them for the reality.’

She laughed to herself at the very thought. _It was going to be_ such _a shock for them._

‘Then... You still _want_ me?’ he asked, with a frown, not realising just how worried he’d been. 

She shrugged, as if the answer was obvious.

‘Of course. I’m not running away just because the logistics are a little… _complex._ Nothing worth having is ever easy, is it?’

Relief flowed through him, and he smiled, not daring himself to look into her eyes.

‘I will miss my house, my car and my family though… It’s a lot to leave behind.’ she mused, frowning as she sipped her tea. ‘And my music.’

_'...All the strangers came today, and it looks as though they're here to stay…'_

Jareth went very still for a moment. His inner voice was shaking its head. 

_Idiot_

‘You don’t have to live without any of it though, Precious Thing.’ 

He smiled, sheepishly, annoyed with himself for not anticipating and addressing her fears much sooner. Her eyes were boring through his as if he was mocking her.

‘Forgive me, my love. I keep forgetting that, although I’ve been keeping up with how things work in the Above, you know practically nothing about my realm. Nor have I told you that I always expected that you’ll want to live a dual life. For a few more decades at least.’

He gave her a pointy, reassuring grin, his hand reaching out for hers, placing it in both of his, comfortingly.

‘Really? So I don’t have to give up my house or anything?’ She felt so relieved that a tear ran down her cheek. She nearly sobbed, but choked it back, squeezing his long, warm fingers. Jareth seemed to radiate his own heat. Like a star. One whose gravity she was now, irrevocably, caught in.

A very genuine smile spread across his face.

‘As much as I appreciate your willingness to give it all up for me, Sarah,’ he said, gently ‘I would never ask you to give up your life or your family, only that you include me in it, and that one day, you will embrace your immortality and join me in the Underground, for good. As for preserving music, well, crystals are useful things. You could contain your entire collection in a single orb, then ask it to play back at will. It’s how we record music in the Underground.’

Sarah’s mouth was open in wonder, the possibilities starting to shape themselves in her mind.

‘Incidentally’ he continued, ‘you can convert almost anything to run off magic. My castle’s kitchen is decked out with all the latest Aboveground contraptions. And, yet, Chef still manages to burn toast...’ He chuckled ruefully at the thought.

‘Or, I should say, it _was,_ since it’s now rubble and dust, along with the rest of my home...’ His smile faded as the reality came back to him. He pushed the remains of the pancake around his plate.

Sarah got up and went to put her arms around him, but instead he pulled her onto his lap, her weight resting on his left thigh. She slid her arm across his shoulders, looking down into his grieving face. He pulled her closer, his left arm around her waist, his right brushing her cheek.

‘We’ll rebuild, once we kick this usurper out of your kingdom.’ declared Sarah, softly, a fierce, protective look in her emerald eyes.

‘ _Our_ Kingdom.’ corrected Jareth, as he pulled her into a kiss. Light at first, but then deep and passionate, his desire for her evident. His hand moved from her face downward, brushing over the light fabric of her silk dressing gown, his thumb brushing the tip of a now erect nipple.

Sarah mewled against his mouth in response, gently biting his lip. But as his hand extended lower, brushing against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, she wrapped her fingers around his, then pulled away from him, bringing his hand up to her mouth and kissing it.

‘As much as I would love to follow through with this, we do not have the time.’ she said, running her fingers through his soft hair. Jareth looked severely miffed, groaning unhappily, a corresponding twitch against her thigh proclaiming something else’s displeasure too. She giggled and placed a chaste kiss to his brow, then got up, his arms reluctantly letting her go.

She picked up her tea and headed for the archway.

‘I’m going to go get dressed, then we’ll have to do something about your hair.’

Sarah disappeared through the archway, chuckling wickedly at the horrified expression she caught, as she’d glanced back his way.

He pouted as he watched her disappear.

‘There’s absolutely _nothing_ wrong with my hair...’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ten minutes later, Sarah was dressed in a pair of smart black trousers with a V-necked cream silk blouse tucked into them, cinched with her favourite DKNY belt. 

She’d moisturised and used a smidgeon of foundation, dabbing her cheeks with a little highlighter, then applied mascara and a little soothing lip balm to stave off the dry, Autumnal air.

She’d pulled her silky, dark brown hair into a practical pony tail and finished off her ensemble with black leather boots and the gorgeous Jade necklace her mother had sent her for her twenty first birthday. It brought out the intense green of her eyes.

As she walked past the living room, she stopped dead. Instead of the Moroccan enchantment, there was a light layer of glitter sprinkled over the original contents of the room.

‘You look very regal, my love.’ 

Jareth’s voice, practically in her ear, made her jump, his warm hands threading around her waist, his hot breath tingling against the skin of her neck. She could feel his throaty chuckle against her back as he pressed himself into her.

Sarah turned in his arms, her hands clasping his forearms, keeping space between them. She knew if she let him touch her too amorously, she might not be able to resist him, this time.

‘You enjoy sneaking up on me don’t you?’ she said, gazing into his blue orbs. 

He grinned mischievously in response, attempting to swoop in for a kiss, but Sarah pulled herself from his embrace. He pouted as she walked away from him, laughing, but then he caught sight of the glitter covered room.

‘Well, that lasted longer than I expected.’ he mused, hands on hips.

‘Is it meant to do that? Leave glitter everywhere when it finishes?’ asked Sarah, flicking on her state of the art coffee machine, fancying a change from tea.

‘Yes, it is. Though I didn’t realise how strong it was, to leave this much magical residue behind.’ Jareth held his hand out, palm up, swirls of glitter flowing through the air to him, forming a perfect crystal ball in his hand. He smiled at it like it was an old friend and then tossed it into the air, where it blinked out of existence. He did it twice more.

‘How did you do that?’ came Sarah’s voice as she drew level with him, sounding awed. ‘Would you like a Cappuccino?’

‘A what, sorry?’ he asked, turning toward her.

‘Coffee with milk, foam on top, with sprinkles.’ she answered, smiling.

‘We have time for coffee?’ 

He narrowed his eyes, a smirk playing at the edges of his mouth.

‘Yes.’ replied Sarah, giving him cheeky once over. ‘We just don’t have time for sex...’

‘ _Disappointing…_ ’ sighed Jareth, his voice throaty as he gave her a lustful smile that made her knees feel like jelly.

‘Stop it.’ she breathed, giving him a little slap to his delectable rear, as she walked past him and into the living room, which still had a considerable layer of glitter.

Chuckling, Jareth followed her. She was checking to see there were no hot coals left in the fire grate.

‘Perhaps _now_ is a good time for lesson three? Creating something from nothing.’ he suggested, sounding like his father again, the person who taught him how to control his magic, as a child. 

He was slightly perturbed at how fast Sarah was picking it up, considering that she was mortal and he had been born to it. It had taken him years to master the kind of control she had shown in mere hours. He was eager, and a little fearful, to find out if this was just her Labyrinthian power. _Or something else?_

Sarah looked excited and paid him all of her attention as she leaned against the mantlepiece.

Jareth scratched his chin as he considered where to start.

‘Alright. Well, first, I should point out that there’s no way to physically create matter from nothing. That’s technically impossible. What magic does, is it takes what is already in existence, and forces it to become something else. The strength of the power and the will _behind_ the magic dictates how long it will remain in its new state.’

He ran a long, gloved finger over the coffee table, coating it in a layer of glitter. Sarah was rapped to attention.

‘This isn’t glitter. It’s the residue of magic bonding with random particles of dust and silicon that exist almost everywhere. Random matter just floating about in plain sight. It’s much easier to use kinetic magic or cast an enchantment, than it is to direct magic to become something else entirely, almost permanently.’

He rolled a brand new crystal over the back of his hand. It then vanished.

‘When I created the crystal, I took the residue from your enchantment, and I willed it to become a crystal, then I stored some of this magic dust within the orb, placing it in a pocket dimension outside of space-time that only I can access.’

‘So _that’s_ why the Underground is covered in glittery magic dust.’ muttered Sarah, mainly to herself..

‘Yes. And you find that it becomes attached to spell casters, following us even to the Above. Its presence here will make it easier for you to create your first orb. Then I’ll show you how to create one when there’s little or no dust to hand. Eventually you’ll be able to think a crystal into existence in a split second.’

He joined her at the fireplace.

‘Stand with your legs comfortably apart, relax your shoulders, and raise your hand. Yes, good. Now focus on the palm of your hand. Imagine a crystal there. Then call on the magic you feel around you to become the crystal. But don’t lose focus until it’s sat in your hand. And _don’t_ close your eyes.’

Sarah took a deep breath and created the orb in her mind, seeing a mirage of the crystal ball sat in her hand. 

Slowly, light started to glimmer in her palm, small streams of glitter floating lazily toward her, fighting her control over them. She gritted her teeth as she willed them to do what she wanted, the magic inside her fighting to overpower them.

It occurred to her then that Jareth had done this so effortlessly, yet she really was struggling. It made her try even harder. 

Suddenly all the glittering residue in the room surged toward her, a glowing glass ball growing fast in her hand as she yelped in surprise and stepped towards Jareth.

‘ _Control_ , Sarah,’ he responded, sounding amused. ‘Don’t let it get away from you. Tell it to stop.’ He held her shoulders as he watched the ball grow larger by the second, twisting as the magic poured into it.

She flinched as she felt the force of the magical glitter pummel the crystal, her hand aching from the exertion of keeping it steady, the weight of the ball now hot and painful. She willed it to stop, but instead a loud hum started to emulate from the crystal sphere, glittering residue still pouring into it.

‘Stop, _Stop!_ she yelled, panicking, and the hum stopped.

_Boom!_

The crystal exploded, spraying glitter _everywhere_ , Jareth ducking behind Sarah, as the wave of sparkling magic drenched her, head to foot. 

There was a tense silence for a second, before a cackling laughter sounded behind her, and she turned to see Jareth practically rolling on the floor, bent over in hysterics. The ends of his spiky hair glittered with the residue that hadn’t quite missed him.

Teeth gritted, Sarah swept glitter from her eyes, then raised her left hand defiantly, ignoring Jareth, who was attempting to get up, wiping mirthful tears from his face. Furious, she directed all of her focus toward the residue that covered her, and the entire front room.

Not allowing it any room to defy her, her anger apparently focussing her own magic, the glittering dust flowed dutifully into the air, a single spinning disk of magic, then it poured downward into her palm, forming a spherical crystal in her hand, that slowly floated upward as the last few specks of magic funneled into it.

Surprised, she closed her fingers around it, noting that it had bubbles inside it, wasn’t completely spherical, and felt a little lumpy. Glittering magical residue swirled around inside it still, creating a tiny, sparkling twister that was mesmerizing to watch.

She grunted with satisfaction, and turned to where Jareth was sitting on the edge of an armchair, fingers over his lips, his shoulders still shaking with suppressed giggles. She raised an eyebrow at him, then tossed him the sphere.

He caught it, chuckling as he turned it over in his long fingers.

‘Very good work, my love.’ he grinned, limping toward her, moving the sphere over the front and back of his hand. He held it up to her, and she took it with a frown.

‘It’s good to know that you’re not a complete natural though, Sarah.’ smirked Jareth, retrieving his walking stick from thin air. ‘I was starting to worry that your near _instantaneous_ control over your magic was too good to be true, and that I’d stumbled onto power not seen since the time of the First Queen herself.’

‘Would that be so bad?’ asked Sarah, studying the roiling tornado within the imperfect orb.

‘Oof, well,’ rumbled Jareth, looking toward the heavens, his gloved fingers stroking his chin, ‘The Labyrinthian holding more power than any living Fae? Let’s just say that we’d have much more to worry about than _just_ Valkyr…’

Sarah’s shoulders slumped a little. It had felt kinda nice to be special. It made her feel good that he seemed to be in awe of her accomplishments. 

Jareth noticed her dejection and put his arm around her waist. He stroked the orb in her hands, teeth pressed against his bottom lip. He raised an eyebrow.

‘That’s not to say that you’re not shaping up to be very powerful, Sarah.’ He held the crystal up to the light, smiling at the tiny storm raging inside it.

‘While your second attempt isn’t perfect, it’s still a vast improvement, and you’ve contained ten times more magic than someone at your level should be able to. Tell me, what were you feeling at that moment?’ 

Jareth took Sarah’s left hand in his and turned it over, running his thumb over the ring, currently an orange that seemed to undulate like fire.

‘I was pissed at you for laughing at me.’ she grumbled, her jaw clenched, but fascinated by her lesson nonetheless.

‘Anger…’ he stated, matter of factly. ‘Interesting. Nevertheless, what you have here is a very powerful vessel. You could use it to power a complex spell, or to increase the intensity of a shield or attack. But, because you created it in a moment of ire, your anger is powering the storm inside it. Which means that the best use for this _particular_ orb, would be as a bomb.’

He smiled widely as he placed it back in her hand, where she held it gingerly, eyes wide.

‘Oh, it’s quite safe, you’d have to activate it to be in any danger. Later I’ll show you how to store it.’ Jareth leaned heavily on his walking stick as he headed out of the room, yawning. ‘You said something about coffee, earlier?’

‘Yes’ she answered, placing the orb on the mantelpiece, hoping it wouldn’t suddenly go off by itself. Then she followed Jareth across the hall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The clock in the kitchen chimed ten am, as Sarah went to steam some milk, and Jareth sat down at the table, his mind turning to the heirloom he’d given to her.

His mother’s ring identified Sarah as his intended mate, as well as the rightful Queen of the Goblin Kingdom. But he was fast realising that it had another purpose, one that proved that it both belonged to Sarah, and that his concern about her power was not unfounded. 

It seemed that the ring was Sarah’s magical focus, and considering where it had originated, as a relic from the First Queen, it seemed the ring had _chosen_ her, just as the Labyrinth had.

His father, Endoreth, was a direct descendent of the First Queen, whose name was so sacred that no-one was allowed to speak it, and sadly, it was lost to living memory. The young Agratheon had given the ancient heirloom to Tunisia, the Valkyrie who had saved him from a painful death on the battlefield. 

They’d fallen very deeply in love, and she had renounced her previous life to become Endoreth’s wife, then Jareth’s mother, and had led the Goblin armies when war had come to the Goblin Kingdom, many years before the last _true_ war, the one against the Red Alliance, which had claimed both their lives.

In a battle so bloody it had stained the earth with magical blood for ages to come, Endoreth had died from his wounds in the arms of his warrior queen. Distraught, Tunisia had led a battalion straight to Valhalla, a vicious battle waged in the courtyard of those hallowed halls. 

But as Valkyr stood over her, apparently victorious, despite taking many a blow, Tunisia had laughed in her wounded face, having left a mark that she would carry for all time.

Her last words were to curse the Ice Queen, ensuring the safety of her son and heir. Then she’d fallen into the arms of the Goblin Kingdom’s only ally, the Lord of the Black City and her husband’s nephew, who sounded a retreat and had pulled her onto his steed, racing as fast as he could back toward the Labyrinth.

Jareth squeezed his eyes shut as he remembered the story of his mother’s death. 

He’d seen her broken body pulled from the back of his cousin’s Nightmare. He’d screamed in pain as the broad man had thrown his arms around the young Fae, hugging him close, pressing Tunisia’s ring into his hands. She’d died in his cousin’s arms, her heart failing as she gave in to the loss of her soulmate, entrusting Jareth, the Labyrinth _and_ the Goblin Kingdom, into the care of the only person she could trust:

_Thranuil_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a fun chapter to write, quite a bit of exposition, also may have teared up slightly near the end there, seeing it all play out in my head. The golden haired Queen taking on Valkyr in hand to hand combat... It's been a while since I did a readthrough. Tunisia was named for the City of Tunis, as was the country it stands in. But that's a whole other story... ;)
> 
> My favourite bit of building this chapter, were the interactions between Sarah and Jareth, his lesson on conjuring crystals, and obviously the background music provided by my second favourite David Bowie Album: _Hunky Dory_. Three of my Top Fifteen Bowie songs come from it, two of which are in this Chapter. Not telling you which ones they are. *cackle* 
> 
> I feel like it's fate that this chapter is being published just days after Perseverance has successfully landed on the planet, searching for Life on Mars?... Especially considering I wrote it in December. Fate? Luck? Coincidence? Whatever. 
> 
> Now it's time I go work on some more of the story before I catch up with myself... Let me know what you think, anyway ;)
> 
> Much love <3 <3 <3


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, hope you are well? I can't believe it's been *checks notes * weeks(!) since I last got around to updating this. I chalk it up to getting slightly sidetracked by Pika-La-Cynique's excellent Girls Next Door comic on Deviant Art (I may have binged it in 3 days while ill, lol) and also the fact that this was a long and awkward chapter to edit, as well as editing a monster chapter of my other fic TTH.
> 
> We get to see an interesting side of the Goblin King here, some more worldbuilding, and Sarah flexes her magic skills a bit more.
> 
> The support I'm getting for this fic is extremely gratifying and I really do hope you guys continue to enjoy it. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Please do keep the comments coming, I appreciate it so much! And the Kudos <3 <3 <3
> 
> Enjoy...

The aroma of Arabica coffee filled the kitchen as Sarah made two cappuccinos, pouring double espressos over hot milk, stirring in a teaspoon full of honey, then topping them in a layer of hot foam and a light dusting of chocolate sprinkles.

She brought them over to the table where Jareth sat looking rather pensive. He looked up as she placed the mug in front of him, wiping away an escaped tear from his cheek. The scent was intoxicating. Jareth wrapped his fingers around the handle and breathed it in deeply. He sighed in pleasure.

‘The last time I had coffee, your world was at war with itself.’ he said, taking a sip, closing his eyes at the bitter-sweet taste. He smiled.

‘This is very good, even though I’ve never been much of a fan of milk.’ he continued, thinking back to drinking espresso out of a tiny mug, the sparkling city laid out beyond the balcony, tense and muted, as if holding its collective breath.

Sarah was staring at him.

‘You mean, you remember the World Wars?’ she said, curious and a little taken aback.

‘Oh yes. Busy time for me. War is when the most children and youngsters are wished away, by anxious parents wanting them to be safe from whatever terror lurks from the invaders. It’s interesting how much mortals believe in magic and goblins and faerie kingdoms when their lives are in danger, their childhood stories suddenly becoming real, in the face of the evils of War, and Death.’

Jareth took a sip of coffee, frowning, then continued.

‘Paris, June 13th, 1940. A desperate and anxious young woman wished her daughter to me, in the hopes that she would be safe, the invaders having conquered the French army and about to take the city. When I offered up her dreams or the chance to save her child, she asked me to share the last of her ‘good’ coffee with her.’

He paused for a second, his thoughts focused on the past. 

‘She told me that if her little girl was safe in the Goblin City, that was all her dreams come true. Poor woman didn’t see an end to the war, nor did she imagine that she would live through it. Religion played a part I believe. So I kept the child, and ensured the woman’s dream of seeing her again was fulfilled.’ 

Jareth sighed. ‘Incidentally, that war was the first time that I got to see an aircraft for myself.’

He smiled at the memory, but there was melancholy there. Sarah wondered what horrors Jareth had witnessed over the centuries, both in the Underground, and the atrocities humans have inflicted on each other, here in the Above.

‘You know, it’s a mercy…’ mused Jareth, his voice a low rumble, ‘Goblins are smart, brilliant engineers, but their wants and needs in life are very simple. That’s why the Labyrinth transforms those who are wished away, eventually...’

His eyes flicked up to Sarah’s, intense.

‘One thing I haven’t told you, Sarah, is that I knew you were exceptional from the second I saw you. I knew that my Red Book chose someone who could withstand the corruption of Magic...’

The clock ticked loudly, _ominously_.

‘What do you mean, _corruption?_ ’ asked Sarah, eventually, frowning at him over the top of her mug, a weird, sick feeling in her stomach.

Jareth sighed and rubbed his eyes, feeling very worn out. The damage to his leg, and the worry in his heart, kept him from sleeping as well as he usually did. He licked his lips, tasting the bittersweet substance that stubbornly refused to grow in the Underground.

‘Magic has two very powerful basic properties.’ answered Jareth, solemnly. ‘Firstly, it’s highly preservative. Hence why those who can wield it are either functionally immortal, or live extended lives. It also means that in order to procreate, you must choose it. If you fall pregnant, you’ll know as soon as it takes. Within hours of that moment, the magic inside you will consider it to be a parasite and attack it, unless you force your magic to protect the growing embryo instead.’

Sarah's mouth fell open in surprise.

‘So, Fae women have complete control over whether they have children or not?’ she asked, incredulous. She didn’t know if she was relieved or not, and they hadn’t really discussed having a family. Not yet. Her previous relationships never got far enough for her to consider children, and she realised then that she’d been waiting for a certain _someone_ to walk back into her life, for this last decade at least.

‘Oh, yes.’ smirked Jareth, his gaze almost penetrating. ‘They can even keep an embryo in magical stasis for as long as a century. I was conceived at a very inconvenient time, apparently, and was not born until twenty years later, once my parents were safely in the Goblin Kingdom.’

‘Goodness…’ hummed Sarah, realising with a feint blush that they’d not been using any kind of protection. She’d come off the pill a year earlier for health reasons. ‘Well, that’s an ability that I know most human women would give anything to have… And you say that _I_ have that power now too?’

‘Indubitably, Precious thing.’ smiled Jareth. ‘You are far too powerful not to be so affected. Which brings me to the second point. Women _have_ given _everything_ in exchange for that power. Your people have a long, _long_ history of tangling with mine and Magic. Making wishes, striking bargains, generally walking blindly into some Fae mischief or other.’

His eyes flashed in amusement as he took a sip of cappuccino.

‘Some, like Morgan, Merlin and Circe, became legendary wizards and sorcerers, witches or druids. Many just enjoyed using their limited power to heal, even when it meant their deaths or ostracisation. Some keep it hidden, even now, working quietly in the background noise of society. But the sad truth... Is that most mortals don’t survive prolonged exposure to my realm.’

Jareth paused, as if trying to form the words, his smile turning into a sad frown. Sarah was listening intently, wondering what made her special, feeling a pang for her old dog, Merlin, at the mention of his name.

‘You see…’ Jareth continued softly, his mismatched eyes staring at the knot in the wooden tabletop that he was running his fingers over, absently. ‘... Fae can only die by a handful of means. We can be mortally wounded. We can die from a true broken heart. We can magically sacrifice our lives or our power. _Or_ , we succumb to a degenerative disease we call _The Darkening…_

‘While Magic is preservative, it also amplifies certain qualities within a person. It enhances the things that make an individual unique. It finds their aspect, it protects their dreams, it chases their will, like a puppy wanting to please its master. But, sometimes it finds the darkness within and enhances _that_ instead. Despair. Pain. _Rage_. Anything that causes light hearted Fae to turn inward.

‘ _The Darkening_ is a kind of dementia. The magic starts to pool in that void within, which will grow, and deepen, and, if not treated, will eventually overpower the afflicted, sending them slowly insane. They inexorably become _Wraiths_ , agents of the Veil who essentially starve themselves to death, as they live in the past, present and future all at once. Their souls are stuck. They can neither move forward or back, are always hungry, and are incredibly dangerous to the living. Most Fae with such a prognosis seek death long before that happens. Fortunately for me, it’s also rare, especially amongst High Borns. But the longer you live, the higher your risk. Anyone who has breached a hundred thousand years of life, usually walks the Path to the Netherealm.’

Sarah looked up at this, not knowing what he meant, but Jareth was too involved in his story to notice. She decided to let him finish.

‘But for humans, who are more emotionally complex than Fae, Magic corrupts much faster, and most can't withstand the darkness for more than a year, before the shock to their system kills them. A few, like you, are able to withstand it, learn to control it. Some return to the Above, where its effects merely extend their lives a few decades and give them mild abilities… But, and here’s where the Goblin Kingdom is so important, others become completely twisted by it, becoming necromancers, liches, or otherwise use their abilities to do dark, evil things.

‘A lot of those who go bad are either Wished Away or Wishers who took their dreams of wielding Magic. Others still, are those who wander into my realm through random means and manage to survive navigating the wilderness alone. That’s why the Valkyrie are tasked with returning errant mortals to your own realm.

‘It’s also why the Labyrinth tests people. It wants to know if you’re worthy. It’s the reason I can feel whether a Wished Away will be better off as a goblin, or if I should organise foster parents for them until they can be safely returned to the Above. Sometimes, but very rarely, they stay and are adopted by Fae.’

Sarah was quiet for a very long moment, and Jareth’s eyes flicked to hers. He leaned away from her then, the question in her green eyes so very sharp.

‘And Toby?’ she asked, levelling a hard stare at Jareth, not even daring to breathe.

Jareth didn’t meet her gaze.

‘When I first held little Tobias in my arms, I determined that, while he had potential, he would have been corrupted by the knowledge that his sister wished him away as a child. Although I had every intention of returning you both to your lives temporarily, if you’d failed your run, I'd have had to do it as the clock struck Thirteen, or the Labyrinth would have completed its transformation of him. As I said, it would have been a mercy, if you were not my future wife and he, my brother in law, to be. The magic would have taken that seed of pain and resentment, nourished it with power, and he would have become a twisted and powerful enemy...’

‘Oh my _God_ …’ cried Sarah, her heart beating fast and hard against her chest. Tears fell from her eyes as thirteen years of guilt crashed into her. She put her head in her hands and wept.

Jareth pulled himself to his feet and over to where she sat, leaning against the table in front of her. He stroked her hair, making noises he hoped were soothing, as if she was one of his wished away children.

‘It’s alright, my love.’ he murmured, pulling her forward so her head was against his chest. ‘You’re both quite safe, no harm done.’

‘I was such a dumb kid...’ she sobbed against his creased white shirt.

‘No, Sarah,’ he admonished, pulling her chin up so he could look into her face. ‘You were a true believer. Worthy in a way that no-one else has ever been. You made me, _me_ , believe in you. Your fierceness was intoxicating. No-one, before or since, has looked at me with the kind of intensity you did. No fear, no doubt, just sheer determination. I was in love with you before I’d known you an hour. Before I understood what that would mean. How I panicked as you overcame each obstacle in your path. How your rejection of me took the sun from my life. No-one else could have rebuffed my feeble attempts to reclaim that power the way you did, with absolute conviction. _My Kingdom as great_ , Sarah, remember? Even then, deep down, you knew you were home, that my kingdom was yours too, and that Toby was never in any real danger.’

Suddenly she was on her feet, her body pressed against him, her arms wrapped around him so tightly it hurt, her fingertips digging into his shoulder blades, but he folded his arms around her and held her to him, nonetheless, his fingers combing through her hair. She sobbed against his shoulder, her face pressed against his neck, her tears trickling down his throat and pooling against the medallion he wore.

‘I love you, too, Jareth.’ she rasped softly, as she finally got her breathing under control, releasing him from her grip, giving him a small, shy smile as she glanced up at him.

‘You better.’ he said, grinning as he pulled her into a kiss, his heart skipping a beat in euphoria at those three little words...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘Oh, look at you’ 

Sarah smiled, looking him over as she pulled from the sensual, loving kiss they’d shared. His shirt was stained with black rivulets where her mascara had run, and a little foundation had transferred over, creating peach blobs across it.

With a click of her fingers, his shirt was clean and pressed, and he thanked her, running a thumb over her ruined makeup. She went to the mirror next to the clock, to fix her face with a little magic, giving her eyelids a slight covering of fine golden glitter, which made her eyes stand out even more.

‘Are you alright, Precious?’ he asked, appearing behind her in the mirror.

She leaned back into him with a sigh.

‘Yeah. I guess. It’s a lot to take in. Magic has always seemed like this cool thing, a benevolent force that was just there to be used, and I spent so much time fantasising about what it would be like to be able to do all these amazing things. Yet every story I ever read told me how dangerous it was. Especially ours. And Toby…’

She bit her lip and closed her eyes. He pulled her closer, kissing her neck, his head on her shoulder as he stared at their reflection.

‘You really should forgive yourself, Sarah.’ he murmured against her cheek.

Her eyes flicked open.

_Never_

‘Now, we need to give you a disguise…’ she said as she turned into him, taking his hand and pulling a reluctant Jareth to the study where her vanity sat, waiting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sarah patted the seat of the wide, low backed chair they’d shared earlier, a mischievous grin on her face.

Jareth slumped into the seat, giving her an annoyed look as he rested back into it, and she smiled at his reflection, running her hands through his soft, layered hair, trying to decide what to do with it.

‘Hmmm, we need to give you a more human look.’ she said, wondering if gel would hold his hair down for long enough. ‘We can cover your markings with concealer, but not quite sure what to do with this mop. A wig would be easiest, but I don’t have any.’

_‘Or_ , you could just use a glamour…’ said Jareth, huffily.

‘Sure, if you tell me how...’ she countered, pressing her fingers into his scalp as punishment.

‘That feels good...’ he grunted, closing his eyes, as she unintentionally kneaded some of the tension out of his skin. She dropped to the base of his skull, feeling the knots that were gathered there. She worked at them for a minute, eliciting little moans of satisfaction from him.

‘Oh, by the way, what happened to the girl from Paris?’ she asked softly, moving her hands lower, over the muscles in his neck. He tensed in response and she frowned as she glanced at his reflection. But he was smiling. A heartbreakingly sad smile.

‘Well, she was ten years old when she was Wished Away, and when I got back to the castle, she was curled up on my throne, terrified and screaming for her mamon. She ran to me, the only person she could seek comfort from, and when I picked her up, sitting her on my knee to calm her, I could sense the potential power she had. I could also sense that she was not particularly susceptible to the corruption of the magic inside, and that she would be able to wield it, with training.’ 

His eyes somewhere in the past as they stared at nothing. ‘So, when the clock struck thirteen, and she was still human, I sent her to be fostered with one of the few Fae families I trust. Eventually, when the war ended, she chose to go home, changed her name, and became a very talented physician, writer and activist. I think she’s still alive...’

Sarah looked up at him. She could feel the ‘but’ in his shoulders as she pushed the tension out of them with her thumbs. He flicked his gaze to her.

‘A couple of years after she was wished away,’ continued Jareth, visibly shuddering, ‘I felt the magic of her mother’s wish work again, and Lysette and I were transported to a wine cellar somewhere in France. Her mother was there, alone, looking over plans for a building, eating rabbit stew and looking infinitely older than just a few years before. When Lysette saw her mother, she ran to her, and they embraced for many long moments. Then the woman saw me and she paled. 

‘It was only later, after hours of catching up, that Amélie whispered to me that she was about to participate in a very dangerous mission, and that her dreams had contained the hope that if she was to die in the war, she would at least get to see her daughter again, one last time…’

Tears pricked at the edges of his vision, as Jareth remembered Lysette’s anger when she realised that he couldn’t interfere and save her mother, or stop the war, or ‘do anything useful’ except keep her safe. 

‘Amélie, by taking her dreams, had invoked both mine and the Labyrinth’s magic, creating a fixed point in time. In that moment, in her anger and fear, her dreams had entailed that she would play a pivotal role in expelling fascism from the world. And she did. With her death. And with her daughter.’

Sarah could almost see the scene play out as he spoke, as she imagined Jareth, standing at the top of the Eiffel Tower, a crying teen wrapped in his arms, watching something explode in the distance, both forbidden and unable to interfere with the fate of the world. Or even the life of one _brave_ woman.

_There’s such a sad love, deep in your eyes…_

Sarah didn't know what to say, instead she put her arms around him, placing her head on his shoulder, cheek to cheek, her magic pushing at the edges of her instincts, wanting to help. She allowed it to flow into him, warming the remaining tension from his back and neck, and he sighed in pleasure, relaxing against her, his hand closing over hers, bringing it to his mouth as he thanked her with a kiss.

The moment passed and Sarah pulled herself up straight again, searching for a way to change the subject as she considered his point about the glamour.

‘So, I take it you speak French?’ she asked, her fingers in his hair, scanning his features in the mirror, as he sat with his eyes closed, enjoying the warm, tingling sensation that was running through his body, searching out pockets of tension, while avoiding the tangle of magic that was concentrated in his right leg.

‘Of course.’ he murmured, his eyes still closed. ‘I speak over two thousand languages, fluently, including thirty or so that are native to my own realm.’

‘Seriously?’ 

Her mouth fell open, astonished.

‘Mmm…’ he assented. ‘A natural gift with languages, and my connection to the Labyrinth, both allow me to pick up a tongue after a mere few sentences. Useful, considering the responsibilities that my guardianship of it gives me. Though more and more people seem to speak English as time wears on, even in the Underground.’

‘You say that like it’s a bad thing’ she responded, making a decision about the glamour.

‘Not as such, just a pity, as each language has a richness and history of its own that is ultimately lost when another becomes more popular, and eventually takes over. Some, like English, continue to evolve, while others burn out after just a few hundred years. I try to keep both my accents and vocabulary at a comfortable level of extensive and neutral, only making changes when absolutely necessary. Incidentally, what you’d consider _Old English_ was the first language I learnt to speak, even before my native tongue, _Mercüle_. I’ve had to update it a number of times over the last millennium.’

He smiled widely, revealing his pointed incisors, happy to be away from subjects that tugged at his heart strings. His emotions were all over the place of late. Every second threatened to bring a new rush of grief or empathy. Or _love_. He was used to being in control, of having magic at his beck and call. The lack of either was incredibly unsettling, as was his deepening love for Sarah. 

The more devoted he became, the more Magic would bind them together, and since he was Fairfolk, if he ever lost her, the grief could literally stop his heart.

Sarah smiled back at him. 

‘The way you speak is very you,’ she said, looking into his reflected eyes. ‘I couldn’t imagine you sounding any other way, I’m glad you never felt the need to take on a different accent. You’d sound so _weird._ ’

‘What, you mean, like this?’ drawled Jareth, affecting Sarah’s New York accent. ‘With all that Irish and Dutch influence where the word ‘mirror’ kinda loses half itself…?’

Sarah winced, and gave him a little flick to his ear, which he ignored, his eyes glittering as he laughed at her reaction.

‘Don’t fret, Precious, I'm rather attached to this one,’ he grinned at her from the mirrored surface, ‘even more so, since my beloved enjoys it so much.’ his voice was smooth with inference as he uttered the last few words. Deep and throaty, his tone seductive.

‘Uh huh,’ she grumbled, giving him a hard look as his words had the desired effect, sending sharp coils of lust slithering through her belly. ‘So how does this glamour work?’ 

‘It’s an enchantment,’ answered Jareth, a finger pressed against his bottom lip. ‘You fix it in your mind, and then layer it over the person’s face or body, bit by bit. Trickier than what you did last night, as the enchantment needs to sit flush against my skin, but the same, basic concept.’

‘And you trust me not to screw it up?’ asked Sarah, looking dubious about it.

‘Oh, the risk is minimal’ he said, then chuckled, ‘I could only end up permanently disfigured. Or worse, looking decidedly human and ordinary…’

Sarah made a strangled sound of worry in response. Jareth’s chuckle deepened as he grinned, widely, catching the hand that had dropped to his shoulder and squeezing it. 

‘Do you really think I’d allow you to do it if I wasn’t completely sure you could?’ he asked, gently.

Sarah took a deep breath and squeezed his warm fingers.

‘Okay, well, I think the best thing to do would be to start with a basic idea and go from there. So, just remove your markings and give you a more modern haircut’ she frowned.

‘Good. Now, give me your hands, Sarah’ he responded, gently pulling her forward as she slid her arms across his shoulders. He placed them in front of his face. ‘Touch the tips of your fingers together, then once you’re ready, use them to filter the glamour over my skin, keeping a small and even distance away. I’m going to keep very still, if I move I could offset it. Ready?’

She nodded. He closed his eyes, sitting back comfortably, his mouth slightly open as he relaxed into a position he could hold.

‘You may begin.’ he muttered.

Sarah pushed the magic through her palms, the image she wanted to achieve concentrated in her mind. It was only when she passed his eyes that she realised it was working, his glittering markings now perfectly arched brown eyebrows, with matching dark brown lashes, the black outlines gone. As she brushed her hands across his hair, it seemed to flatten, and was completely different by the time she reached the nape of his neck. His honey golden locks were now cut closer, the dark tones much more noticeable, blond highlights to the longer hair slightly quiffed at the front.

Jareth opened his eyes at the sharp intake of breath from behind. The man in the mirror stared back at him, looking decidedly human to his eyes, though his uneven blue irises and teeth were still very much the same. He leaned forward to inspect his reflection. Still very attractive, he was relieved to note, never having used his own face as a glamour.

‘Sarah, whatever is the matter?’ he asked, frowning up at her, where she was standing a few steps back, almost panting, a look of surprise etched to her face.

She whimpered and disappeared for a minute, opening a large cabinet that was next to her untidy computer desk. It was full to the brim with colourful items, almost shrine-like in appearance, pictures stuck to the inside of the doors, as she dug through a stack of magazines. 

Finding what she wanted, she pulled it from the pile, and hugged it to her chest as she brought it over to him.

‘I thought you might be, but now it’s pretty damned obvious.’ she said, flipping the magazine over and sliding it into his hands.

Bemused, he looked down at the glossy cover. What he saw there took his breath away. Sarah’s voice filtered through the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.

‘I'm not the only one who has a Fae-Twin.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, now. I wonder who his twin could possibly be?
> 
> So, a lot of exposition with Jareth talking about the past and filling Sarah in on some important stuff about magic. I will say though that Jareth's knowledge of how magic effects women does have its limits, though he is essentially correct, and probably more insightful than most of his own kind. But then he is extremely well educated even for a Fae. 
> 
> Anyway, I digress. One of the reasons it took so long edit this monster was that I needed to double check my facts and update accordingly, as there is some real world stuff referenced here. Also I did some fleshing out here and there.
> 
> I promise that we are getting close to the more actiony bits and I'm currently working on an exciting part of the story I've been looking forward to writing for months. I'll try not to take an age before the next update. ;)
> 
> Please do leave a comment and thank you again for your support... <3 <3 Until next time - MRYGM

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all. I really hope you enjoy my first fanfic. I fell in love with the Labyrinth after watching it again recently, and really wanted to give them their future. Also a massive Bowie freak so I do hope I do the idea justice. I've just finished chapter 18 of what should be approx a 40 chapter fanfic. Maybe more. I'm hoping to post at least once a week once each chapter is edited, after posting the initial five straight on top of each other, but we will see. enjoy, and don't be shy with the feedback.


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